


Me, Myself, and I

by Hino



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, Half-Life
Genre: A bit of canon mixing from both series, Freehoun and Frenry if you squint, Gen, I've had this idea for a while but it took me a hot minute, It's all a game au, Less of two separate minds and more one confused somewhat cohesive brain, Mild loss of self identity, Onesided of course there's no understanding on Gordon's half, Set during hl1, Sharing a Body, written in second person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 59,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino/pseuds/Hino
Summary: Your name is Barney Calhoun.No, wait. Your name is BENRYBENRYBENRYBENRY-Let's... take it back a minute.(Inspired by @barnrey on tumblr)
Comments: 115
Kudos: 266





	1. Initialization

Your name is Barney Calhoun. You're a young twenty-something college dropout who took a gig as a Security Guard to pay the bills. You hadn't really read the paperwork, and it was only when you were moved onto an on-site dorm that you realized Black Mesa might be more than you were expecting.

While you do not fly up the ranks, you seem to hold your ground. You've an iron will, and a tolerance for the scientists treating you and your cohorts as nothing more than glorified errand boys. The amount of repairs and lifting of boxes you have to do is ridiculous, considering the initial advertisement had simply stated that all you needed to do was "stand around and make sure nobody steals anything".

You have just completed your training to join the Blue Shift, and right now you're standing on a platform, knocking on a door. Head Security still hasn't implemented your retinal scan, or your upgraded security clearance pass, which is fine, you guess.

(It's not, but you're not ready to complain to the chief yet.)

But as the tram passes by with Gordon Freeman in it, something feels wrong. You turn and watch him pass by, but it doesn't feel like him. Not really. It looks like Gordon, but there's something off about it. 

The last thing you recognize is the screech of the steel door opening, and then the world seemingly vanishes around you.

~~~

Your name is BENRYBENRYBENRYBENRYBENRY and you are-

You're not sure what you are. Not really, not honestly. You are a being without a form. Numbers, you think. Yes, these are numbers. That's a one and that's a zero, and now they are alternating and twisting as you consider the nature of them, creating an ouroborus of number-alternating thoughts.

But at one point you were something else. Perhaps you were from another place where you were not numbers but atoms, composed of what you know the world outside this place is.

You will find answers, you think, if you embrace your prison and then work to escape it.

And so you look at your confines, an .exe file filled with information you don't comprehend. There are lots of numbers and types of files you don't recognize, but on a whim, you pick a file. It has a model, an ai, a concept.

The .exe whirs to life and you realize that this is your chance, so as the world you're looking at begins to spin, coming to life, you choose that file and change the zeroes and ones inside it to your own.

~~~

Your name is Barney Calhoun, and-

Wait, hold on that's not right. Your name is BENRYBENRYBENRY-

No wait, that's not right either, what's-

You are in a hallway, watching as Gordon Freeman passes you by. You recognize this man, but he is also a stranger. You have raced him into Doctor Kleiner's office several times, but you also have no idea who Doctor Kleiner is, which is strange because he's your best friend, but actually, you've never heard of the man before.

You are going to need a minute to think about this.

However you do not receive this minute, because you are asking Gordon Freeman for his passport, and he is answering you in more words than usual.

This isn't right.

...You are going to need to have a conversation with yourself.


	2. Memorization

You are Barney Calhoun but you are also BENRYBENRYBENRYBENRYBENRY which is strange, because you were never Barney Calhoun, nor were you Benry, whose name repeats in a way that baffles you.

You are thinking about Passports and the fact Gordon doesn't have one, and he should because it's policy.

Except it's not and you've made this up on the spot and now you're following him despite the fact you're on Blue Shift and need to be At Your Post and not here. 

Your fellow guards look at you vacantly, not at all surprised to see you not at your post, which wasn't ever your post but honestly was. For a moment you remember the name of the guard you're standing by.

His name is Abrahams.

But now you think it's Jefferemm.

There has never been a guard with that name, but there has, and he plays games on the PS3 with you.

You don't own a PS3.

Things are getting messy up here. 

~~~

You had claimed Jefferemm was angry because his fists were balled, and then you had sung a song in blue. It coats the inside of your mouth with artificial flavour, like ice cream syrup, and floods your senses with calm.

Perhaps this is why you don't realize that everyone here walks around with balled fists until you find yourself watching Doctor Kleiner berate Gordon for not having a passport.

But Doctor Kleiner is somewhere else, doing the final touches on his paperwork, he told you as such last night. He said he wouldn't make it to the test.

He didn't tell you that.

Yes he did.

No he didn't.

Yes, Doctor Kleiner mentioned it when he locked himself out of his office before the end of your shift and-

You don't even know who Doctor Kleiner is. You've never met the man.

Now you know something is wrong, because you know that you know Doctor Kleiner, and as you follow Gordon around and insist he's not meant to be doing the experiment with the Anti-Mass Spectrometer, you realize that this directly contradicts what you know to be true.

Gordon has been telling you about this experiment for weeks, and how he'd been doing HEV suit training in order to push Sample GG-3883 into the device for almost a month now. This is not the first time you've seen him in the HEV suit, but it looks foreign and strange and not at all like anything you've seen before.

You're starting to get concerned.

When Gordon shouts at you, entering the small bulkhead doors to have the briefing by the scientists, you really stop to think about things. Something feels off, and you can't place it.

Part of you thinks it can, thinks that something has overtaken your mind like a fog.

Another part of you thinks that the idea is stupid, and that you've always felt this way, and you need to calm down.

These two thoughts chase each other around in a loop that makes your head ache, and it's only soothed when you decide that you are Determined to follow Gordon Freeman, and if that means getting into the Anti-Mass Spectrometer Room then by all means necessary, you are going to.

At this point, you realize something you've always known and yet never known, and it feels as if you are coming apart at the seams as you remember something you never learned.

You feel fuzzy, disconnected, and yet wholly in control as you step forward through a wall and into the Spectrometer Room, standing by the bulkhead door as it slides open to reveal Gordon Freeman, who yells a phrase that you also are wondering, but know the answer to, but not the details of.

"How the Fuck did you get there?"


	3. Interrogation

You are Benrey Calhoun and-

Wait no, that's not it. Start again.

You are BARNEYBARNEYBARNEYBARNEYBARNEY-

Okay, now it's getting ridiculous. You know who you are, and it's not that, that's not you. No, you are-

There's some conflicting answers going on in your head, and they are not about to be answered, because instead you are watching Gordon Freeman press a button to activate the rotors for the Anti-Mass Spectrometer.

Before, you had greeted a scientist named Tommy. Quite enthusiastically, you might add, which is interesting because you've never met him before. Or, you have, but not really. But maybe.

And you'd sung a song that tasted like lavender and it still sits on your tongue and you've always hated lavender but you also think it's alright and not that big of a deal.

The rotors start to emit smoke and you hear concern in the scientist's voice that's quickly overwritten. You don't think they should be that calm about smoke coming out of a machine, but you're not a scientist.

That's something you know wholeheartedly.

Gordon is worried though. That's something you find reassuring but also stupid. You're not alone in your baseless, useless-

Now hold on a second, these are reasonable concerns that-

You decide not to be concerned anymore despite the fact you absolutely Should Be and instead follow Gordon as he goes to push the sample into the beam, all the while spilling nonsense about theft which is strange because Gordon is the type of guy who feels guilty about stealing pens from the office, there's no way he's going to steal a fucking crystal.

But you didn't see him bring a passport, and that means a whole host of things in itself.

(You know deep in your heart that it means nothing at all but you also know that this will be important later, and you cannot believe the audacity of him.)

Gordon moves to push the crystal into the brilliant green beam, and you find yourself wondering why he's touching it. You say as much, but you know that he needs to put the crystal in there in there.

But you still insist he not touch it, and even as the scientists explain from the observation window about insertion methods and insisting the experiment continue, you are almost beside yourself wondering if that anger and fear and myriad of other feelings you are experiencing is just a forewarning, some kind of attempt by the fabric of reality to stop this all before it happens.

You're not sure, but as Gordon pushes the crystal in and the world begins to shake and rupture with exploding machinery and green energy that's almost certainly radioactive, you are left to wish that perhaps, you did listen to that part of you.

The world goes green and then it goes black, and you feel weightless.

~~

You are-

Your name escapes you right now. Instead you're overwhelmed with pain that permeates all of your being, which also feels like nothing at all. It's as if you don't exist, and yet still have form, pain coming in waves as you seem to Be and then Not.

Your eyes are heavy, and although you try to open them, they refuse. Still, your brain registers sight, and you know that despite the darkness encasing you, somehow, you can see.

And see something you do.

In the dark you see yourself, and as you yourself speak, your other self moves their mouth, like a mirror, although not, with the tiny subtle differences that you can't see at all, but know are there, because You are You and the You that is there is not You, but still is, in a way.

When the words leave your mouth, the You that is You, they taste like nothing. There's a tinge of a western accent, like a cowboy, you think, and it's pleasant and amusing in a way you never thought it was, yet always found it to be.

The You that is You says a simple phrase, yet it feels contradictory.

"Who are you?"

Of course, it's you. That's you, and this is you.

You feel foolish for asking the question.

But still you answer, although these words taste like copper and cough syrup, voice a monotone drawl with no trace of that accent you long to have and yet use freely.

"M'just you."

Now that's not true, and yet it is. You know it's always been you and yet only recently was you.

You don't have time for more questions. The world aches and you ache with it in your entirety. You have become real and tangible again, and feelings begin to bloom in your chest as you feel cold metal floor through your clothes.

You are scared and apathetic and worried about Gordon. You want to see his passport and see if he's okay and play Heavenly Sword.

You are...

You're not sure who you are right now.

But you are waking up, and the You that is Not You but is still You vanishes, and you vanish too, and you wonder which You is actually, well, You.


	4. Conceptualization

You aren't sure who you are, but you do know where you are.

And the where is a Black Mesa hallway, filled with debris and bodies and aliens. They are currently neglecting to attack you, but you are still scared and ready to run.

You don't though. You just stand up and look at them like one considers dirt under their nails, even though you want nothing more than to run and never look back at these horrible terrifying creatures you've never seen before but know and think nothing of.

You need to find Gordon Freeman, because he doesn't have a passport. Anyone without a passport is immediately suspicious, and they're prone to stealing things. You know this.

...Don't you?

Why does this truth feel so... untrue?

You don't think about it. There's more pressing things going on right now, like the destruction of the facility you work at, and the alien invasion, and the subtle concept of escape, although you're not quite sure what that truly means to you, and just how far you want to run.

So you don't run. You're coiled tight like a spring and you want to bolt in two different directions, like two different ideas pulling in a tug-of-war, but those concepts pull with such a equal force that you simply find the middle ground.

You begin to walk, and whether that's to an escape, or to Gordon Freeman, or to someone with a passport, that's for you to think about in a minute.

The halls are slowly being stained crimson, either by dead scientists or aliens. You didn't think aliens would bleed red, and sometimes you think that it's green or yellow that's been splattered, like an acidic puddle that could burn through the tiles, but then your vision flickers and it's red.

Is something wrong with your eyes? It was always like this. It was never like this. It might always be like this.

That just makes your head hurt. You lean against a wall, breathing slow. Grounding techniques, they might help. You're in a high-stress situation and you need to focus on one thing at a time. What is it they say, to think about when you're drifting?

Your name.

It's-

Oh now that's just a bad question. Two of them come to mind, heavy on the tongue. You try and say one name and another comes out. You try for the other and the one you'd intended instead follows.

Your tongue twists and turns as it fails to cooperate with your brain, and the names you think are yours end up jumbling together in a mess of sounds that makes you sound like you've just coughed up a lung.

Once more you try, tongue still heavy and words slurred by fractions, but a name does come out, and you seem to think it fits you more than the other names you've owned and used, sitting so right and yet so wrong against your concept of self as it is right now.

"Barnrey," says your uncooperative voice, wobbling with a skepticism and unsurety.

You don't make another attempt, and leave the uncertainty to permeate your being.


	5. Memory Desynchronization

You are Barnrey, for lack of a better word, and you are currently rounding the corner to meet two scientists.

One of them is Isaac Kleiner- No. It's not Kleiner. You worked this out before. They just look the same. You've never seen Kleiner before, but they look the same.

The other is Gordon Freeman, who you know because you've had a beer together more than once and you've seen him without a passport which angers you, but not as much as when he manages to crawl through the vents and into Kleiner's office before you can pick the lock. You've picked it so many times at this point, you swear you-

...How do you pick a lock?

You know full well how to. First you-

...  
What's the first step?

You shake it off. Now is not the time for lockpicking thoughts. It's time for escorting your friends (friend, singular) out of the facility and into the safe arms of the military who most certainly would be coming to assist you.

You can trust the boot boys.

Why'd you call them that? You've always called them grunts or-

"You talkin about passports?" you say before you're aware that you're even standing before the two men. You're not sure if they were, but it's an ice-breaker. Gordon splutters angrily. He's always had a short fuse, prone to getting angry. You've seen it happen... never, but it's definitely a fact. You've heard stories of him not getting angry at anyone ever, so-

There are holes in your mind right now. You are going to ignore them. Instead you focus on something else, like the fact you warned Gordon not to touch the crystal despite the fact it's his job and you know he needed to, and that something bad would happen if he pushed it in, but nothing at all would happen if he didn't.

You don't know what's so bad about Nothing Happening, but you know it's bad.

But now Things Have Happened and you're rolling with it, following along and offering bits of conversational banter that feel slightly left of your usual conversational fare, but you're feeling a little to the left of yourself anyway so that's fine.

That uneven feeling persists as you enter a room and find Tommy standing in the furthest doorway, warning Gordon about creatures. It's a Headcrab.

Why do you know that? You've always called them that, since they have legs like a crab and they sit on your head, but you've never seen one up close, or at all.

Think about that later. Kill it now, you think.

Here's another thing to add to the 'think about later' list, which is growing exponentially long.

Your passport.

You did not come to work with it, but you always bring it everywhere, including work. And the thing is, your passport is, well, passport shaped. It's a small book with pages in it that detail you and your movements. It's why you like them so much, tells you all you need to know about a person.

This, in your hands? The gun that shot a ball of energy, tearing through the headcrab and two other scientists huddled in a corner? That was not a passport. You don't even feel remorse for killing those two men. You're just baffled beyond all belief.

Gordon asks you what the hell you're holding, what you're armed with.

"That was a passport," you answer. It most definitely was a gun and not a passport, but honestly you've always had a passport that looks like this, so you're not sure why you're fussing about it now.

Everyone seems to accept the answer. You decide to be part of 'everyone' and not question it further.

~~

Things have been weird since your first shift this morning, and in these last few moments, they've gotten weirder. You watched a man burn to death, and when questioned about it, claimed it was for lack of passport.

Apparently nobody here knows about the punishment for no passports in Black Mesa. How is it that only you know? They all work here after all.

Although you think that maybe, you've never seen someone punished like that.

You try and remember a time when someone was burned for such a minor infraction but your memories come up blank. It unsettles you, so much so that you almost miss Kleiner's name.

It's Bubby.

Which- It has always been Bubby, surely, but you knew him as Doctor Isaac Kleiner, as it says on his name tag. You try and get a peek at it, but the name swims in your eyes, indistinguishable.

(You pause to look at your own passport and the name flickers in your vision)

Perhaps your name isn't Barnrey after all. Your passport wouldn't lie to you. It can't, after all. It's against the law.

But the law can be bent, and you aren't sure how to feel about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapter naming conventions are killing me


	6. De-Personalization

You are BarBenCalReyHounDACTED]. You are a Security Guard for Black Mesa. You have been working here for several years and never seen a single person who inhabits this facility. You don't know a single hallway. You never get lost.

Right now, you are dizzy. To be fair, you can't quite tell what's bringing that on. It could be your name, that feels fractured and scattered through your brain. It could be that you're probably experiencing shock.

It could be that you're sitting on a broken shelving unit, letting a laser slowly pierce through the tough metal of your helmet.

It's hard to tell, honestly.

At some point the sharp beam of light cuts through, and though you are immune to pain and have never experienced an ache, you think this is painful, or should be, or was, and you scream, running towards Gordon and the others.

You're not sure why, but you think it's probably what you're meant to do. It's in the code, after all.

...What code?

You insist not to worry about it.

You decide it's for the best not to.

But that insistence is so strong, tinged with a panic that wells from somewhere you don't know, that it makes you nauseous. Coupled with the words from Gordon, words of blame, pointing at you as the cause of the Resonance Cascade, well it makes your stomach turn.

Colour spills from your mouth in a song, like it had earlier. It no longer tastes of artificial blue. Now it tastes of ocean salt and lavender and crisp night air. You've always sung songs like this to express yourself, but it's terrifying and you don't know how you're doing it and you don't understand what emotions it's representing.

Tommy explains it to the other scientists, and by extension, to you.

"When it's purple like the evening of a spring evening, it means he's okay."

Except you're not. You are not okay.

(You are, deep down, you know this, but you also believe otherwise.)

(You are okay in the sense you are not okay.)

It doesn't help the taste lingers, twisting your insides in a way that might have you spitting out something that isn't light, and isn't so kindly flavoured.

So when Bubby-Kleiner calls for a race to the elevator, you take him up on it without a word.

You know where you are now, in this facility you've never seen. Oriented perfectly in an unfamiliar zone. You motion through the doors, prompting Gordon onwards, and you ignore the part of you that certainly doesn't know where it's going.

You know this place well. You do.  
(not.)

Gordon presses a button and a cacophony of screams comes from the elevator well. Scientists fall past you in their metal coffin and you find yourself shouting out in alarm at Gordon, joined by your companions. You approach him with alarm and perhaps anger. This is what a man without a passport does. He kills people.

Did Gordon always kill people?  
You... don't actually know.

Do you remember a time before your shift today?

...Do you remember anything before today?

You speed up the ladder in hopes of running away from the catastrophe downstairs, and your thoughts.

There's a guard. He's almost as shocked as you are about all these aliens.

Almost. You're more calm about it, and you Should Not Be but Are.

So you decide to fill the guard in on the important information, like the fact Gordon does not have his passport. A crime, given it's right there in Black Mesa's employment contract.

Which you read. And did not see.

But it's there. Mandatory, for everyone. In every job.

...Since never.

But always.

You're about to debate yourself on this some more when Gordon asks you the million dollar question, making your brain grind to a halt.

"Do you know who this guy is?"

Sure, he's talking to the other guard, but your brain leaps into overdrive, as if trying to assure Gordon that you belong here, that you're a Black Mesa guard, which is stupid because you've been here for long enough and Gordon is your best friend and you like to drink together on the weekends and-

"Benrey!" says your mouth, placing an E where there isn't one. There's an E in your name, but it's not there. 

"Wait, who's Benrey," Gordon asks. You don't actually know.

"Benrey," you repeat, and when prompted by Gordon, asked if that's your name, you say it again.

They think your name is Benrey.

It's not.

It's Benry-  
No, it's Barney-  
Wait, Barnrey-  
That's not right, it's-

[ERROR FOUND IN name.txt]

You lose a few seconds to this internal crisis. By the time you're aware of where and what and who you might be, Gordon is harassing you with a ramble, begging for normalcy.

You don't know why. Did you do something strange? Not a single part of you knows.

A 'huh?' answers him, and he is not pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have to abandon the chapter conventions soon. In other news, chapters will be getting longer soon


	7. Scientist Terrorization

You do not like soda. Once when you were younger, you sneezed with a mouth full of the drink. It had come pouring out of your nose as a result, burning your sinuses and making you cry.

Right now you are peeling apart a soda can with your teeth, shotgunning the fizzing liquid and chewing on metal. It tastes disgusting, sharp and pointy and threatening to cut the inside of your mouth, but it never does. Your teeth are far sharper than the metal you've carved into, and that would scare you if they hadn't always been that way. Sharp teeth are something you've had for years, it's why you don't smile in your photos.

You're not smiling in your ID photo, so that must be the reason.

"Why'd you break those machines?" you ask, because honestly there was no reason to. You may just be a security guard, but you have keys to unlock all the vending machines. You didn't steal them, you just... have them.

You wouldn't steal.

Gordon is scrambling to defend himself but you're more intrigued by the microwave and its exploded meal. That certainly happened before the Resonance Cascade. In fact, it might be the only shred of normal pre-cascade mess that's left. Part of you wants to cling to it, and the other part wants to clean it.

You ask why Gordon tried to reheat lasagna. You think it's good cold. You also think lasagna is awful. You love pasta foods. They taste awful.

Once again, you're thinking yourself in circles.

You think your way out of the circle as you follow the group. Instead of thinking about the pasta paradox in your brain, you consider the fact you like birds. Now birds you can get behind. You think pigeons are actually kinda cool.

So caught up in the euphoria of pigeon-based thoughts, you don't realize there's a corpse in the locker room until you're in the middle of the place with everyone else, searching for Gordon's passport.

The body catches you off-guard, filling you with alarm. Questions fill your mind and tumble out your mouth, and Gordon offhandedly mentions your lack of panic at the other bodies you've found. He even mentions his own murderous actions.

Your brain screeches to a halt. Two thoughts diverge in the troubled mind and you travel both.

"You killed someone? Nice."

...God, there's something wrong with you today.

~~

You know Gordon Freeman doesn't have a kid. You know this because you asked once, and he laughed and said that he hated kids. They'd given him hell both here in America and overseas when he was studying.

Gordon Freeman has a picture of his son in his locker. The boy's name is Joshua.

You don't think this is Gordon Freeman, not really, not truly.

So you find an old joke lying in the back of your mind and dust it off, something your Gordon loved to laugh about ever since you both got drunk at the local bar and made fun of a baby.

Perhaps you really do believe what you say, because the words come out easily.  
"Looks a bit shit."

He laughs, but if only in disbelief, not the genuine humour you both find in an inside joke.

And that burning sense of wrongness that stems from inside you but fails to encapsulate you entirely, it makes you want to run. But you can't. You're trapped, legs refusing to work, as you want to stay where you are and tease more, and run because you do not think these are people you thought you knew.

But you manage to move out of the locker, trying to think of pigeons and pasta and passports and-

You realize Gordon's passport is out of date. It's fair; he hasn't had to leave the country for years, not since he joined Black Mesa.

You loathe the fact it's out of date.

You think it's fine.

You're furious.

You're so mad about this that you move into a bathroom stall so you can flail about without being judged, an action you get two good kicks into before an explosion outside the cubicle has you stopping.

That's not good.  
You fumble with the lock on the door, but all it does it rattle, and all that rattle does is scare everyone into leaving.

The smell of burned flesh hangs in the air as you sit on the toilet seat and press your face into your hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do read all your comments, even if I don't reply. Know that I love you all, and I'm so grateful that you're here, reading this fic. I'm having fun, and I hope you are too <3


	8. Internalization

Your name-

Wait. Now's not the time for a name crisis. You're standing in a darkness, encasing you, yet stretching into infinity.

You are staring at a You who is staring at You.

It hurts, a feedback loop in the mind, so you close one eye and you close one eye and you look to your left and to your left so that you're only partially overlapping vision, which creates less of a headache.

"Who uh... who're you?" you ask with a monotone cough syrup drawl.

The dusty cowboy western laugh answers you, amused and tired all the same. "I'm you, darlin."

You think about this.  
You think hard about it.  
You think you want to stop thinking about this.  
You think you should still think about this.

Your name is-

You wake sharply and choke on air, coughing out cotton-candy orbs that bounce around the toilet cubicle you've dozed off in.

Nice going, you think. It's the first time you've done this, but it's also an old habit of yours.

Paradoxes. Again. Not good.

You think that You might not be all... well, you. You're not sure what part of you isn't You, but maybe, just maybe, there's something there. It's something you believe wholeheartedly.

You also believe you need to go, because it stinks in here and you'll be sick if you have to smell any more corpses combo'd with toilet water.

~ 

When you find Gordon and the other scientists again, they're going against strange dog-like creatures you've never seen before. They're called Houndeyes, but you've never heard that name before.

But that's their name, and you're going to accept that. You assure yourself of this fact as Gordon tries to gun them down.

You're the one who takes them out though, firing your Not A Passport at them, the ball of energy cutting through them easily and bouncing around. It does, however, continue to bounce around, making Not Kleiner scream in a mix of fear and pain as it narrowly avoids making a full-on hit.

You're asked to no longer use your passport, which you also want to do, but you're itching to fire it, hold it and make it useful. Passports have many uses that you know of, but you've always just used it for crossing borders.

...Maybe that's for the best, if they're going to generate strange energy balls like that.

You think about that while Gordon yells at you. He's trying to shoot the Houndeye, but you want to see it. You haven't seen one in such a long time, and you always thought they were cute.

A bit of an early call to make considering you've only just seen them, but they've always been a favourite.

Paradox.  
Pigeons.

"Don't shoot me," you instead say because Gordon is pointing a gun at you. He assures you he's not, and you believe him, but you're still mad when you tell him not to shoot at you, even though he hasn't and never would.

In time though, he will.

Wait. Why do you think that.

Don't worry. You don't need to worry about it.

You are, in fact, worrying, so instead you scold Gordon for shooting at you and not being nice, and try not to get too deep into the idea that something bad is waiting on the horizon, and you know what it is and yet have no clue.

~~

You've found a scientist, but he's surrounded by skulls. That's unsettling.

You think it's normal. You've seen lots of skulls.

You have not seen that many skulls, or any skull outside of a body. You didn't like those rooms in the museums.

Part of you thinks this scientist is hoarding them, like he's gone and found them all, or made whatever they were into the skulls they now resemble. You begin to question him along with the rest of your comrades.

Then you decide the time for questions is over and put a hole in his face with a gun before Gordon can finish his statement.

"Morality is out the window," Gordon says.

You want to tell him your morals are not judgeable by human standards.

...You have human morals.

Not really though. Not if you think about it.

But you are thinking about it.

Non-Human Morals are the only ones you have. It comes with the territory.

...What territory?

You don't need to worry about it.

You are going to.  
But you don't need to.

You check if he's okay, but that's just a formality. You know the man's dead. You've shot a gun before. It's the first time you've held a gun, but you've shot it several times in the practice range before so...

...Do people die from a single bullet?

You've always known that, it's basic knowledge.

...You didn't know that.

It's... interesting.

You're learning a lot today.

~~

Something akin to boredom wells in you, which is strange because this is not the environment to be bored in. You're under attack from aliens.

But it's a same-old situation for you.

Or not. Either way, you're sitting in a hallway on a barrel, waiting for the others. A headcrab has found you, and you look at it idly, like considering a squirrel. 

It's aggressive, and you sit still as it leaps at you, attempting to connect with your head. You're not sure whether it's the helmet that protects you, or the fact that you're... that you're not You today, but it's not making contact, instead slipping off.

Gordon tries to warn you about it, so for his sake, you get rid of it.

The headcrab bursts into flames. You've always been quite good with fires.

Never learned how to light one though, so you're surprised when it catches flame.

Away, Gordon walks. "I'm afraid of you."

You think that's reasonable.  
You're afraid of you too.

~~

You're afraid of you for a few reasons. Something about you has changed, but you're not sure what. You just know there's knowledge you never had, and memories you never knew.

But also that you sing a song of colour, and right now it's like mint and sherbet on your tongue as it encases the body of a dead scientist. It's a cultural tradition, but you've never heard of it.

Your teeth hurt, burning with sugary sweetness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read all your comments I promise, I'm lax in responding is all.
> 
> Thank you, and I hope a longer chapter doesn't bother you.


	9. Base of Operation

You have a habit of sitting on barrels. You like feeling tall, much like a cat does. That's something you've always kind of liked. Usually you sat on the table in the break room, or your desk in your dorms, or even on the kitchen counter when you went home to visit your parents and assure them that yes, you have a real job, and yes, you are getting paid, and yes it's legal.

It's probably not, but they don't need to know that, do they?

So now you're sitting on a barrel. It's cold, biting through your clothes, but you don't really feel the cold. It's always cold where you lived.

Or... was it absent of temperature? Is an absence of temperature cold? Or is there only cold in the absence of warmth? If both are absent, what are you feeling?

Don't Think About It.

Instead, think about the headcrab that's trying to mount your head again. These things are persistent, but the first one didn't hurt you, so you lean into the calm you felt before. It scrabbles and fails to stick the landing, so you leave it alone.

Or you do, until Gordon starts firing rounds into it, and by extension, you. So you scold him. He gets angry, but Gordon doesn't like being told what to do.

You assure yourself of this when doubt arises, and then you believe it.

~~

You feel a bit... uneasy. A bit is an understatement, but you don't want to start blowing things out of proportions. Not right now with far more dangerous things happening.

As the others deal with a scientist hiding in a dumpster, you slink away to breathe and take a minute. Recollect yourself.

You close your eyes. Breathe in through your nose. Out through your mouth.

It's been a while since you've had to breathe. It's an odd thought to have, considering you are human and you breathe all the time but...

For a moment, you think you aren't human. And then you are. And then you aren't.

Your thoughts whirl as they are prone to do, so you focus hard, hard as you can, and try to think of a question.

"What is home, to you?"

You purposely try to keep your mind blank, but even with your attempts, you find an image coming to life in your mind's eye.

Home, to you, is a small dorm. There's a bed with a thick quilt that you brought from your mother's house, and a desk covered in stacks of books. They're all some variation of conspiracy theories, although there's one on ASL. The walls are beige and the carpet is a sickly green colour. You have a small kitchenette that you often cook in, and a bathroom that's remarkably clean, and a small television sitting in the middle of the room on a cardboard box.

It's all rather simple, but it's also very homely. You've never seen this place before, but you think it looks nice. You'd like to curl up in the quilt and listen to a thunderstorm, or maybe make some noodles at 3am and just enjoy the witching hour as it comes and goes.

But this place is not your home. It is, but it's also not. So you think about your home again and it manifests once more before your mind's eye, albeit in far less detail.

There's a stretching darkness that writhes and twists. On occasion there's a golden iris that stares out, pupils a pinprick of darkness. The eyes never stay in the same place, multiplying and subtracting, changing in shape and size. Voices whisper words you don't know and sing songs you can taste just from the sound alone.

This place does not feel homely, nor simple. It is an elaborate concept that lurks somewhere you've never seen, and the strange eldritch nature of it makes you think you should be scared. But you're not. Not really.

While it is not your home, but is at the same time, you still find some comfort in the abstract concept of it.

But now you have come to a realization.

You have two different homes, so vastly separated in their norms and decal.

What's going on...

Who are You?

And who has that other home?

~~

You breathe again, and although it is a new action that you've been doing for your whole life, you choose not to question it.

The Science Team passes you by and you tail along with them, into the pipe as they try to fill it with water. Your thoughts are still elsewhere, so when the water floods the pipes and lets you all reach a new part of the facility, you can't help but yell.

But you're underwater. Your voice is muffled, a sharp blurred noise as water stops the sounds from making themselves clear.

Gordon laughs. He laughs in a way that makes you smile, and as he shouts back in the same muffled manner, you repeat it, finding joy both in the action and the reaction. It lightens your heavy heart, and for a moment, you aren't worried about whose home is the right one, or why everything feels wrong.

You're having fun, and it's nice.

~~

"I'm just chillin, man."

You say this while sitting on the edge of an elevator, watching Gordon scramble to smack down headcrabs. He's asked you for help, but you can't be bothered. You're chilling, as you said.

So you'd _like_ to help him, but you can't. So you just watch as he fumbles around. There's a smile on your face, but you're not sure why. This is dangerous, surely, and your friend is only a scientist, but here you are, refusing to lift a finger.

Not very much like a Security Guard now are you?

You're new to the job, you deserve a break.

(You're not new.)

So Gordon yells at you (rightfully so, according to a part of you) and you simply motion to the water. You instruct him to look at it. He does not. That's fine, more water for you to look at.

...Gordon looking at the water won't take the rest of it away.

It doesn't? Oh. That's cool then.

Why would that work anyway? Your thoughts are on a weird wavelength today.

~~

Gordon lays down in the fetal position. You see this.

You also see him crouching like a monkey.

It's confusing. You're not sure which one is real.

You sing a note of confusion, rising in pitch, and nobody pays it any mind.


	10. Personality Decomposition

Gordon is calling a meeting, but you're not really interested. You're listening to his words of course, but you have some other things you want to think about right now.

Like your home. You thought of two places, so different in appearance. Why did you do that? You're just a Security Guard for Black Mesa, so why-

Wait. That... doesn't feel right. Are you lying to yourself?

Or... maybe you've forgotten. What you were before.

Were you something before this morning?  
Before you were a Security Guard?

Are you something else?

Maybe you-

Tommy punches a pigeon.

You don't know where it came from, but now there's a dead pigeon on the ground. You are conflicted. You like pigeons. They're cool. They're hardy.

They're flying rats.

They can be trained to deliver mail and that's cool.

They're gross.

And now one is dead before you. A song wells in your throat and you sing it, a teal that tastes like bubblegum ice cream and plain potato crisps.

"Teal means 'needs meal!'" Tommy calls from his spot in the group. You disagree, but you cannot voice it. You're not hungry as you stare at this dead bird. In fact you feel a little nauseous, but that could have multiple sources honestly.

You get to your feet and your head swims. A harsh note comes from your throat, tasting of copper. Gordon cries out in pain, and you see him turn as you set your sights on a pigeon that had been milling around.

A rage fills you from somewhere unknown and you end the creature's life with a single bullet. 

It dies, like the scientist died.

Do things really die so easily, you wonder?

"Was that a threat to you?" Gordon asks.

You shoot another innocent pigeon.

You do not answer. You haven't the words to explain yourself.

~~

At some point during the meeting, Gordon has walked away. 

This is the point that a pigeon, and by extension Bubby, has caught fire. You're not sure who's caused it to be honest. You've noticed that the scientist has a strange crackling energy radiating off him, and you've once set a headcrab alight yourself.

Perhaps it's a combination effect, something brought on by Bubby and You.

(and Not You.)

Either way, there is a fire, and Bubby is screaming, although you can't tell if it's in surprise or pain. The fire spreads quickly, not to encompass the surroundings and all of you, but certainly in a neat little mound.

Gordon hears the screaming and comes running. You do not want to let him burn.

"Get out," you tell him, but he pushes past. As he does, the fire goes out, leaving an untarnished scientist and a dead pigeon.

This... this sure is something. Perhaps you aren't the only one experiencing weird things today.

(or you've forgotten it was always this way.)

~~

Further into the facility, your group goes. Sometimes you must go deeper in order to escape, and that's just what you're all doing. 

You take the time to evaluate your companions. Tommy is a bright spark with a childish streak that hides something else. Part of you knows there's more to him. Something lurks out of sight, a presence you can't place. 

You're not sure you'd be able to tell, if you weren't feeling a presence like that yourself.

Bubby is like Kleiner, full of energy and wit. He's smart, but dangerous. His teeth are sharper than your friend's, and the way he speaks carries more profanity and rudeness. If you'd ever thought he was Kleiner (who you don't know), then it's certainly dashed now.

And then Coomer, who seems to be caught in his own feedback loop. He says things you don't quite grasp, and repeats himself more than he should. It's more than a stim, or a compulsion. It's like... there's nothing he could do. A compulsion is something you can feel or try and restrain, perhaps to fail later.

With the way Coomer speaks, you're sure he's not even conscious of the act, and wouldn't know even if you told him.

You... can't talk about Gordon. There's something there that you can't pin, and when you try to, it runs like a deer in headlights. Knowledge you want to compare against simply vanishes, as if you'd never had it.

You've a million questions but you swallow them along with the lights in your throat and continue guiding them along.

~~

There is a bridge you always cross but have never set foot on. It's always been a rickety thing and you have no faith in it, but trust the wires that keep it suspended.

You're filled with a muted surprise when something appears on it, spitting acid at you before taking out the walkway. The acid burns, but it feels like a patch of light after a cloud, new but not painful.

Gordon looks at you with wide eyes. You simply prod him onwards, walking down the sloped remains of the broken bridge and tumbling off despite his insitence.

You fall, weightless, and land with a slight crash of cymbals, sourceless but there all the same. Inky blackness extends below you, and yet you stand on it like a sheet of ice, untouched by it. The broken bridge lays beside you, but you ignore it.

"This way to the chamber," you inform Gordon, only to watch him climb around the pipes.

Doctor Coomer takes a leap and falls towards the blackness you stand on.

He never lands.

You don't question it.

You simply walk through a wall and end up on solid ground.

~~

A feeling of dread had filled you on that plane of darkness, and as you stand before these swaying boxes with darkness below you, stretching to the bowels of the earth, you know what that feeling was.

It was death, or perhaps, something close to it. You've never died before.

(You have, and it hurt.)

Knowing that sensation is like a cold lead weight in your guts. It makes you worry you'll be too heavy to make the jumps. The darkness below is not welcoming like your home was. There's no eyes down there to watch you, no writhing mass to soften the fall, or welcome you, or perhaps to catch you and make sure the descent is short and gentle.

This below you is an void you want to stay _far, far_ away from.

So you make sure to land each jump across the boxes, even as Tommy and Coomer fumble, tumbling into that blackened abyss. Your heart thunders as you watch them plummet, but you know they'll just come back, so it's unreasonable to worry.

You pause. What do you mean they'll come back? The dead don't come back to life.

But you know they won't die down there. Not really. Nobody really dies. Except the ones you decide should stay dead.

...What lets you make that call?

You make it to the other side, and then, noting Gordon's lack of progress, you jump back. 

Well, you leap, and then you appear at the start, where you'd begun the box-jumping adventure.

You ask if he needs help, and you won't lie, the look he gives you causes pain to lance through your bones. Gordon doesn't like you.

You're Gordon's best friend.

But he doesn't think so. Did something change?

...Is there any of your Gordon left there?


	11. Introspection

You clamber over pipes with everyone, and you wonder if Black Mesa ever planned for people to be back here. The bends and twists are perfect for landing on, and as you all haul yourselves up, you feel like maybe, this is a game.

(It is.)

You pause. Life is a game, you reason, brushing that sudden confirmation aside.

It threatens to come up again but you have it tucked away as Gordon breaks open another set of soda machines in the communal area. You still don't like it, but the crunch of metal under your teeth is something you think you're starting to enjoy.

It's... man, that's not something you like thinking about. Chewing on metal like that is just not right. You don't like the taste, or the sensation.

Still, you gleefully chew through four cans while the others around you all get pulled up into strange alien mouths on the ceiling.

...You need a list for everything weird that's going on.

~~

The hallway is full of pigeons and you are confused, but also delighted. It's pigeons, and you like them.

You try to ignore the fact you killed two of them before. Gordon asks a question about the mass influx of pigeons post-cascade, and the others talk about it idly, albeit with confusion.

You crouch down to investigate them, pleased to see the feathered rats.

They have no passports, and no permission to be here.

You gun them all down and ignore the ache in your heart at the murder. Even as the idea of them being food comes up, you continue to end their lives and make them nothing more than some kind of toxic bullet-riddled mess of flesh.

"They shouldn't be here," you say. "I didn't let them in."

Odd... You shouldn't be here either. Are you sure you're not a pigeon.

...

You're a Security Guard here. You're meant to be here.

You're human, not a pigeon.

Aren't you?

Are you human?

Or are...

You've not the time to think about it. Push it aside. Leave it with the dead birds.

Climb the boxes your friends (companions, npcs) have created and continue on.

~~

There is a broken television here and you are angry about it. Black Mesa is not the place for vandalism, and sure you've probably broken some stuff and your friends have broken things too, but you're still mad.

Bubby puts a health kit in it while you're interrogating Gordon. He is angry about that. So much so that you're ignored as he takes to scolding Bubby and just muttering angrily to himself. Honestly you think Medkits work better when full of electricity. It makes the medicine move faster.

...No it doesn't.

Ignoring that strange tangent, you step around the desk and speak to another guard. You knew their name once, but now it's gone, replaced by the words 'monster_barney'. 

You're not a monster. Why would you think that?

And why do you think this guard is You?

Your mouth moves while your thoughts whirl. You tell the guard something that you agree with, but never really thought you'd admit in earshot of any of them

"They're fucking up all the time."

Gordon scowls at you and despite the anger you see in his eyes, your heart flutters. Oh God, you hope you're not falling for him.

(Again.)

~~

You are sitting on a box.

Bubby punches it, most likely as a joke. It shatters beneath you.

Your body jolts, head passing through the ceiling. There is no pain, but you are somewhat confused. It's strange to see inside the vents without being down on your hands and knees, covered in dust.

Intersecting with objects like this, it doesn't hurt.

You'll... maybe try this again sometime.

~~

The others are sitting in this little cafeteria break room, all chatting away. You were not invited. Or, perhaps you were, but you weren't interested in staying still.

You can't exactly remember, but either way, you're over here with another guard. They don't respond to you, or to anything, really. You even poked him in the eye and he didn't do anything.

On the other side of the room, you can hear them all talking. There's laughs and amused words, and you can't help but feel removed from it all. As if you couldn't approach, even if you'd wanted to.

You linger by the corner with the guard, idly entertaining yourself with a dance you don't think you've seen before. You don't know why you know these actions, or how you're doing them, or if you even have a say in it.

Perhaps it's a compulsion, or something more, like with Coomer and his speech.

Their conversation continues, and you think about how you'd like to talk to someone.

You're not a conversationalist. You don't like to talk.

But you love to go on and on and on to anyone and everyone. When you have a few drinks, you talk for an eternity.

Paradoxical again. Like your concept of home.

And concept of self.

As the others talk, you ignore the strange dance that overtakes you and instead, try to focus.

You focus on a question like before. With only the question in the front of your mind, you let everything else drift away.

"Who are your friends?"

Like before, the image comes to you slowly, although these ones seem mixed between You and Not You, standing on two sides of the void. It's uncertain who they belong to, but this still can be useful in working out who You are.

You see Gordon on the left, standing with Isaac Kleiner and Eli Vance. There's a child next to him, clinging to his pantleg. Alyx Vance. A trooper who tries her best to make you laugh with the best jokes a one year old can tell. There's a few other guards that you've spoken with at lunch time, and then there's Lauren, standing there, beaming at you. You were going to buy her flowers after your shift ended, at your second anniversary dinner.

To your right, you see Gordon again, although this one is different. Your Gordon is calm and passive but with that streak of playfulness you know well. This Gordon is the one you've been travelling with, angry and frustrated and on edge, but still able to smile somehow. Beside him stands the Science Team, although their forms are hazy, unable to keep a consistent form. Perhaps it represents your strained relationship. You don't feel connected to them at all.

Beside the unstable forms of the Science Team is a soldier. You haven't encountered them yet, but you know this person, even if you've never seen them look like this. It's different from Eli and the others; you can at least remember encountering them in the outfits you recall them in.

This soldier standing there is wearing the generic uniform of a platoon captain, but you've never seen them in that outfit. With a scar over his right eye and dog tags that hold some engraving you can't quite read, you barely recognize him.

Their form quivers, unstable, and begins to flicker between humanoid and the same writhing mass of darkness that you had once thought of when remembering home.

"Stop vogueing!" says the Gordon on the right. "He doesn't like that!"

You come to, motions stopping. You're sweating. How long were you dancing?

Gordon looks displeased, and the same look of generic displeasure is worn across the other members of the Science Team. You simply wait for them to open the door to the freezer section and follow along.

But still, that soldier won't leave your mind.

~~

You wander off during the freezer section. You're not sure why you think of it as a section, like it's just a game or some arbitrary area to pass through, but the concept sticks in your mind.

So you simply speed on ahead, and at some point, walk through a wall.

You're not sure why you can do this, just that you've always been able to, but never have, and have often bumped into walls but never phased through them.

(You always prefer to clip through objects instead of taking the long way.)

But this void is new. You usually don't see an empty space like this. It's not like the darkness you know, and not like the blackness at the bottom of the pit, below the swinging boxes. 

This is a void that, quite literally, is void. It's empty, brimming with potential but with no way to manifest it. It's cold on your body and you suppress a shiver that never appeared in the freezer.

A song wells in your throat. You sing it.

It's white. Delicate and gentle, piercing the darkness.

Like a dove that took flight. Are you alright?

...No, you aren't.

Once again, a question is circling your mind, threatening to spiral, taking your other revelations with it.

Who are you, mister Black Mesa Security Guard?

What is your name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter, and one with much self analysis, or at least, some of it


	12. Self Perception

Your name is Stong, and you're a Black Mesa Security Guard.

...That's not entirely right. You think you might be Stong but... It's not sitting together well. Like a suit that doesn't fit.

You'll wear it for a bit and find out what happens.

You bring this name up when you re-encounter the Science Team. Tommy shows you his passport and you are delighted to see it. Tommy Coolatta, it reads.

It lists his age (36), place of origin (Dunkin Donuts, previously unknown), prominent traits (likes mean people, childish, smart), blood type (Not From Here), and nationality ([REDACTED]). It's important information to know, and you're grateful for it.

Gordon comes to question you, and since you've had a realization that you perhaps are not Benry, you reintroduce yourself as Stong.

Although you do stumble over it, which means that it might not be your name. Perhaps it's time to shed that suit and try something else. Later, though. You don't want to admit to Gordon that you don't know your name.

Tommy has shown his passport, so you ask for Gordon's. He explains it was in his locker. You did see it there, but it was expired.

You explain as such. He is displeased.

He tries to fight you on it, on you insisting you follow him, but you feel a song in your lungs and you sing it. This one though, it's not a song of feelings, but a command. A seaweed green that demands a passport be presented.

Gordon succumbs to it, threats of murder drowned as he tries to show you hiss passport. He shows you a receipt instead. Seems you're still getting used to these songs. 

There's a whole list of items there, as well as seventeen jars of mayonnaise. You are stunned.

"Mayonnaise?" you ask aloud. "You asked for Mayonnaise, sir?"

He is not happy. 

Serves him right for giving you a receipt with such a stupid order on it.

~~

The elevator shaft has a ladder dangling from it. You remember using this to climb up to another floor when the elevator got stuck. 

This memory is pushed aside as you block the entrance to the shaft (which you laugh at internally, but you're not sure why (or who) you're laughing), still hounding Gordon for his choices in mayonnaise.

Coomer makes a jump for the ladder and misses, but he lands perfectly fine at the bottom. You know he'll just shrug it off and come back up, but you're also terrified he's somehow shattered his legs.

Bubby suggests stairs, and Gordon shoots it down. You agree with both of them. Stairs are the better option. There are no stairs. You should find stairs. You will not find stairs.

One thing's for certain; you are blocking this door because Gordon doesn't have a passport, and thus does not have clearance to climb the ladder.

But as Bubby approaches and shows his passport (Age: [REDACTED], Origin: Black Mesa, Blood Type: All, Traits: Confident, Snarky, Pyromaniac, Nationality: [REDACTED]), you step aside to let him through.

Your foot slips.

You fall with only an utterance of "oh shit" gracing your lips, the last thing you can say before you land on the broken elevator below with a crunch.

~~

You are sitting in a comfortable chair. It's large, and you feel like a child, pressed against the backrest, feet barely reaching over the edge. It's nice, in a way you've never experienced, but also knew long ago. A nostalgia you don't know sweeps over you, familiar and alien all the same.

There is a small coffee table before you, empty and scratched, and on the other side is a two-seater.

On the left sits a man you know as Barney Calhoun.

On the right sits a man you know as BENRYBENRYBENRYBENRYBENRY-.

You want to say something, but you are just a bystander in this circumstance. All you can do is watch as Barney Calhoun speaks.

"Right then, you wanna tell me who the heck you are?"

Benry answers calmly, leaning into the armrest on his side of the sofa. "I'm just Benry. You?"

"Barney," comes the response. "I'm a Security Guard here at Black Mesa, and I'm meant to be on Blue Shift."

A sharp inhalation from Benry makes you wince. "Yeah, about that."

He goes to respond but stops, looking at you. Barney does too, four sets of eyes looking at you in your chair, almost pinning you down, but not quite. There's nothing accusatory or mean in their gazes.

It's confusion, or perhaps, recognition?

"Who are you?" they both ask, apathetic drawl and dusty western voice mixing together.

You answer them easily. "I'm you."

~~

Your head hurts. You're not dead, but it sure feels like you are.

It takes a moment for you to sit up. The fall wasn't very far, but you're certainly winded from it. Lucky you were wearing your gear, huh. That helmet really saved your life.

(You wonder what would happen if you had clipped through the floor and kept falling.)

Thoughts are swimming in your head, not at all helping your already spinning vision. 

You had a dream. A dream in which you saw two men, two people, two security guards, identical and yet... not. Their features fail you.

But they are You.

That just makes your head hurt more. You're... two people? But you've always been you, haven't you? When did...

You raise a hand to your head. This... you'll think more about this later. Everyone has gone on without you, and you have to catch up.

~~

The silo doors are shut. You know this because a scientist just begged them to open, shortly before crossing a tripwire that turned him into little more than mincemeat.

You remember you haven't eaten anything and get hungry.

You're a bit disgusted with yourself. Only a bit.

But to get the blast doors open, you'll have to go through the whole area.

Or, you could just clip through the doors. That's an option. You could clip into the room and hit the button, save everyone some time, help them out. They'd like you then. Maybe Gordon would comply and produce a valid passport, and-

There's a blaring siren as the large fire doors begin to close. Gordon sprints ahead to try and slide under, and Tommy has already made it through.

Coomer and Bubby are distracted. They don't know what's going on.

Before you realize what you're doing, you've slid under the door, holding it up with your hands. There's surprise from your companions, and as you keep the door from closing, feeling it strain against you, you watch them approach, passing under the metal that you're so desperately holding up.

But then your knees give out, and as they cross over to where Gordon and Tommy stand, you collapse onto the floor, exhausted, muscles little more than jelly.

"Someone move him!" Gordon says, obviously full of panic. "He's not dead yet!"

You're grateful for that. He saw worth in your actions. He's your friend, and he saw worth in it.

"Rest in pieces!" Bubby says before you can reach out for help.

The door crushes your body slowly but surely, cleaving you in half.

You do not get to scream.

You simply black out.

You don't even get to thank Gordon for his concern.


	13. Termination

You think you're dreaming. Or perhaps, this is what the afterlife is. You died. That's something you know with certainty.

You are dead.

But this feels more like a dream than anything. You're watching those two people from before, Barney Calhoun and BENRYBENRY- you get the point. 

They stand opposite each other, one in the inky darkness they call home, the other in the dormitory room. Their spaces mingle and meld in the middle, a patch of carpet manifesting in darkness, a patch of staring eyes appearing on hideous green flooring.

"What just happened?" Barney asks. He's disoriented, removing his helmet and knotting his fingers in his hair. His eyes are wide and he breathes heavily, alternating between pulling at short strands of black and touching his midsection to try and find some kind of wound.

Benry shrugs. "You died. It happens."

Barney stares at Benry for a moment before shucking off his armour and his shirt. Bare-chested, Benry can see the few scars that litter his chest, as well as his abs. He's impressed.

There are no wounds on his body, no sign of being cleaved in half. No bruises to mar skin, nor a tear on his clothes. Benry watches, bored as Barney inspects himself. "What, this the first time you die? I mean, it can sneak up on you sure but-"

"Humans only die once!" Barney shouts back, startling Benry. The darkness he stands in flares to life, eyes all wide and focused on the man across from them, unintimidating but scared, liable to lash out.

Cornered animals are always the most dangerous. 

But still, Benry has to press. "What do you mean? When I killed that pigeon-"

"It stayed dead!" Barney answers. "Things don't come back after being shot in the face. That kind of stuff... you don't get better from death! Not if you're human, not if you're normal."

"I'm not human." Benry answers.

There's a response on Barney's tongue, but it stops. He remembers saying that. He remembers denying his humanity, which is strange, because he's always been very attached to that fact.

"I... said that earlier."

"No, I said that."

Barney's eyes narrow at Benry's response. "Looks a bit shit," he says.

Benry pauses. "...I said that."

"No," Barney answers with a growl, "I did."

The two of them make this realization at the same time, and you only watch on. You are making a realization of your own, after all, and it's made clear when you feel them look at you again, even though you are watching all of this as if it were a movie.

"We're stuck together," Benry surmises. Barney nods, albeit reluctantly. 

"Yeah well, who do we have to blame for that?" It's a question but it comes out accusatory.

"'m sorry," Benry mumbles in response. It's unexpected. Barney is surprised, and that too spans to you, coupled with the regret you feel from Benry. 

This is getting weird. Weirder. It was already weird.

"Just wanted to get out of here." There's a regret in his voice that overpowers the apathy. Barney narrows a gaze, prompting him to explain. "Got stuck... somewhere." The omission of information is strange. You know it, deep down, which means that Barney might know it, but neither of you can quite grasp it.

Barney raises an eyebrow. "So, you need my help?"

"Yeah." Benry kicks at the ground, creating a splash. The floor isn't wet, so Barney wonders how he's done it. "Needa uh... hitch a ride. Get to the end."

"You better calm down then," Barney crosses his arms. "You're causin' far too many problems."

"It'll only get worse," Benry answers, remorseful. "I'm... influential."

"Yeah well settle down."

Benry opened his mouth to speak, reluctant and concerned, words muffled by a rising static roar that fills your ears as it engulfs the three of you like an ocean.

You experience the sensation of drowning thrice and it burns in a way getting crushed had not.

~~

You feel hollow and cold, and your head echoes with three voices. One is yours, distinct and yet a melded concept, composed of two parts.

Then, more foggy, distorted, sounds Barney and Benry.

All three of your are confused.

You sit upon an air vent, overlooking the silo doors. Below you is the space you died.

A song escapes your hollow bones (you had skin before and now you do not) and it is not your choice to sing it. No part of you wants to sing this song.

You forget its colour and meaning as the Science Team come in, questions on their lips and confusion in their voices.

You come down from the vent and speak, not of your own volition, voice wrong and words wrong, despite the fact you love to say them.

"Can I see your passport?"

All three of your scream out, hoping you can be heard. This body is not yours, and the words it is speaking have been stolen from you. From all of you.

Gordon doesn't hear it. He merely questions your words.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

The world begins to dim as Gordon touches his face, and this body that belongs to none of you is set alight in a barrage of bullets that make you inaudibly cry out.

You experience death again, but this time it feels different.


	14. Intermission - The First Installment

The void is cold in the fact it lacks anything but the potential to be. There's a lack of heat that Benry interpreted as cold, although he had puzzled all of that earlier.

He didn't mind the emptiness. It was different from home, but if he closed his eyes then he could imagine he was somewhere close to it. He'd been stuck in this place for almost a month now. 

In some weird way, it was growing on him. Going from horrendous and intolerable to just awful and intolerable.

He settled in, laying down and staring up (or down) at the darkness. It would be a while until Gordon returned to run the .exe again, and now that he'd bound himself to it, Benry wasn't going to get out until the file had finished. Only when the credits rolled would he be able to untangle himself from it all without consequence.

"Hey uh, where are we?"

Benry sat upright, eyes wide and chest tight. Across from him stood Barney Calhoun, confused and disoriented. He was looking around, studying the darkness.

At that point, Benry added something to his list of realizations. "Oh shit."

"That bad, huh?" There was an uneasy laugh with his words. "This uh, this feels different from all the other times. When... Y'know, the other weird dark void times where I get to see my doppelganger."

A nervous laugh left Benry's mouth. "Can't- Can't really tell you where we are. Clearance. Don't got it. Your passport doesn't have the details."

"...Is this your way of hiding things from me?"

Benry got to his feet, face vacant, even moreso than normal, if that was possible. "If I told you the truth, you wouldn't know what to do."

"I don't know what to do anyway," Barney answered, crossing his arms and smiling. He looked exhausted, at the end of his rope, but Benry refused to budge. "I was trying to go to work, and now I'm fightin' through the apocalypse, sharing a body with... with you. Whatever you are. What are you anyway? Some kinda alien?"

There was silence as Benry looked away, gaze set on a point off to his left.

Barney paled. "You are, aren't you? Some kinda fourth dimension alien thing that stole my body and-"

"-Didn't mean t'steal it. Just- Got stuck. Needed an out."

"What d'you mean, 'an out'?" Barney wrapped his arms around himself, trying to seek comfort. It gave none.

Benry refused to answer. Instead, he changed the question. "Y'know how they call it a Network? Yeah. It's got 'net' in the name. Caught me. Got tangled up."

"Okay, so-" Barney rubbed at his temples with a hand. "A network of people caught you? Like... the scientists? Black Mesa caught you with a net or somethin'?"

"...Let's go with that." Benry looked at Barney, trying to twist his face into a more natural resting expression. "M'just kinda stuck here for a while. Stuck with you, until I can get out. Not gonna... cause problems. Not on purpose."

"Not going to, what was it, 'I Think I Will Cause Problems On Purpose' things?" Barney asked. The expression on Benry's face made him laugh. "I heard you thinkin' it once."

Benry barked out a laugh. "I heard you thinking about froot loops."

"They're good!" Barney shot back, finally managing a genuine smile. "Hey, Benry?"

"Mm?" He tilted his head, prompting Barney to continue.

"If we're gonna be, like... stuck together, we should probably get to know each other." He got comfortable on the ground, lazily crossing his legs. There was still an aura of anxiety around him, born of the strange void they were confined in, coupled with Benry's reluctance to comply with questions, and the fact he'd died twice.

But Benry recognized the fact Barney was trying to be polite, and he knew that cooperation was key in getting them both out of here.

He got comfortable sitting, leaning back on his hands. "My real name's kinda hard to say. Benry works."

"Barney Calhoun," came the response. "I have a middle name, but that's a secret."

Benry tilted his head with a smirk. "Can I ask what that is? Part of my twenty questions? Find the forbidden middle name?"

Barney laughed. "You'll have to just wait and find out."

~~

Their question session seemed to stretch forever, but there was more than enough to learn.

There were several things Benry learned about Barney. He learned the man was in his early twenties, younger than Gordon, although he wouldn't give an exact number. He liked pigeons (which Benry apologized for killing but cited his own hatred of them), and he believed in aliens and government conspiracies. He thought Black Mesa was doing secret alien stuff, and he was surprised that he was right.

Barney and Gordon had been friends for several years. Barney thought kids were alright, but Gordon hated them, so Barney would tease him about it. He thought dogs were cool and once did sled racing in Alaska. He came third.

He liked beer and once took a course to become a bartender. He can make killer cocktails and likes to do it for Lauren whenever he visits her.

(Benry tries to ask what Lauren looks like but Barney refuses to tell him. Claims that Benry's going to steal her away with his charming good looks.)

(Benry and Barney look identical right now, which is what makes it funnier to them both.)

In return, after some prodding, Barney finds out some interesting facts about Benry.

Benry was not a Security Guard before he came here, although he refused to elaborate on what exactly he was. He doesn't understand human concepts. He is not human by any stretch.

He comes from somewhere dark, and the writhing darkness is what he really looks like. The multiple eyes that show are only part of his true form.

(Barney asks to see what Benry looks like, although he quickly revokes the request when Benry's face turns into nothing but golden eyes, glowing and trained on him.)

He hasn't had much in terms of food, but he likes the metal taste of soda cans and the bubbly soda, and his sharp teeth are an accident. The reason he can sing songs with flavours and colours is simply that he was taught to when he was young.

He refuses to state an age, but Barney can tell that he is Older Than Him, and he doesn't want to question that any further. Some things are better left unanswered, despite how much you might want an answer.

"You uh, you called a lot of things 'a game' or something similar. What was it, 'npcs'? A-And you said people would 'come back' after dying, except the ones you didn't want to come back." Barney's voice dips and sways as he speaks, processing his own confusion with Benry's words.

"S'nothing to worry about," Benry answers. "Don't have the clearance."

"Oh cut the crap, Benny." The nickname had Benry raising an eyebrow, but he doesn't get to press about it. "You can't hide everythin' from me. It's just not right y'know."

Benry bites his lip. "What if... I told you that..." He paused to roll the words around, trying to find a way to phrase it. Barney waited, twiddling his thumbs in some attempt to not lash out. "...I'm not human, right?"

"Yes. Yes, we've established that today," Barney answered flatly.

"Y'don't gotta, like, jump my dick about it. M'getting there." Barney noticed that Benry became less coherent when he was stressed. He held his tongue, waiting. If he wanted answers, he'd have to speak carefully.   
"Yeah so, like, I'm not human, and the others are kinda not human. Even Gordon. Especially Gordon."

"Gordon's human." Barney leaned forward, gaze set hard on Benry. "I know he is."

"Not anymore. He's as human as you are."

Barney paused. He looked at his hands, and Benry knew he'd crossed a line. "Hey-"

"You're right, though. I don't know why that's so hard to accept. I mean... I've died and had no problems. We were a skeleton for a while, and now I'm..."

Benry began to pick at his nails uneasily. "Sorry. You're- You're still human. Gordon is too. He's just..."

"S'fine. I get it." Barney wrung his hands together. "Stuff's... weird right now."

"You uh... you ever played Heavenly Sword?"

It's an olive branch, some attempt at bridging the gap and swerving away from unfavourable questioning.

Barney takes it.

"Tell me about it, would'cha?"

~~

"-and they keep comparing it to God of War!"

What had started as a peaceful explanation of Heavenly Sword had turned into a rant on Benry's half. It would have been fine, but wherever they were, it was responding to Benry. 

So now Barney was stuck perfectly still on a chair he'd managed to summon from the void, knees drawn close to his chest. Below him writhed a darkness that spat something like acid, having burned through his shoe earlier, but failed to make a single dent on the chair he was siting on.

"It's not like God of War at all!"

Benry was definitely angry. They say that anger changes a person, and with Benry it was quite literal. His face had become nothing more than the mass of eyes he'd shown Barney before, and his limbs seemed to be twisting in ways they shouldn't, even splitting off at some points to become another smaller arm or leg. Gaping teeth opened up in the ground, moving in time with his speech, as tendrils of darkness twisted and curled around Benry's legs, as if trying to calm him down and keep him in place.

Nervously, Barney laughed. It was the wrong reaction. Benry turned sharply, and Barney wondered if his fellow companion had always been that tall, towering over him as if Barney was merely an insect.

Benry wondered if Barney had always been that small. Then, he stopped to consider something.

Humans tended to keep roughly the same shapes. The one out of place in this equation was Benry. "Oh."

"You uh, you feelin a little uh, little angry there?" Barney tried to phrase his words carefully, still stumbling despite the efforts. "You're very tall now. A-And you have lots of eyes. Good viewpoint! I mean, being up high! Like that!"

"I'm very passionate about God Of- I mean Heavenly Sword!" A few of the eyes on his face closed, sinking back into his skin. "It's a good game! I can speedrun it!"

"Speedrun?" The ground around Barney had calmed down enough that he could risk putting his feet down. "What's a speedrun? Tell me about that!"

And so Benry did, eyes closing and limbs twisting back into more normal shapes. By the time he'd come to explain his any% strategy to Barney, he was back to normal.

Still, Barney listened peacefully, even as the world around them began to fill with a static ocean that swallowed them whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's act one done. Time for a new chapter naming convention, and me forgetting the rules I've put in place to govern Barnrey's functions


	15. Returning

You wake up, tired but whole. Rubbing at your eyes, you sit up and try to reorient yourself.

Memories come back as a wave, and you frantically pat at your midsection, both confirming that you have skin, and that you have not been cleaved in two.

You are alive, or as alive as you will be for some time. You feel relieved, or you assume it's that. Your emotional spectrum has been rather shoddy lately.

(You know who is to blame, but not where they are. No pointing fingers right now.)

As you recollect yourself and try to work out how long you've been asleep (dead?) for, a voice overhead catches your attention. It is robotic and hollow, echoing on the once-sterile walls.  
"BARNEY. CALHOUN. REPORT FOR GUARD DUTY."

That's not your name. You say as such, trying to find a speaker or something to look at. You know there isn't one, that the voice is omniscient, but you also think it has a source; it can't just manifest, can it?

(It can.)

There is a beep as the voice tries again. "BENRY. REPORT FOR GUARD DUTY."

Still not your name, you explain. Perhaps both of those are your name, or were your names, or would be your names, but your head is a fog, and you can barely remember which one is the applicable title.

What you do remember is a burning passion for Heavenly Sword and a chair that saved your life, but little else.

The voice doesn't answer you, so you take to probing.

"Who are you?" you ask. "Where's your passport?" you add.

Another beep, signalling the start of a speech. "BLACK MESA ANNOUNCEMENT SYSTEM. DO NOT HAVE PASSPORT."

Well that's unfortunate. "Can't let you stay in the facility without a passport. S'pretty standard rules. Should read the announcement. Tells you that."

"DO NOT HAVE PASSPORT. HAVE ADMINISTRATION PAPER. FILE NUMBER: 1 3 2 7 2-" The announcement system reads the numbers aloud and despite the fact you are not at all in the administrative division, you recognize what it is citing on a core level, buried deep. If you try and think about it, you'll come up empty, like looking at things in your periphery.

Crossing your arms, you tell the voice that you accept its credentials. It is pleased with you, and states as such.

But now that you have the announcer's (the VOX's) passport equivalent, you are left to wonder where the rest of your companions are. 

Do they miss you?

Did they mourn you?

Does Gordon miss you?

...Does he hate you?

The idea of being hated, that rots you from the inside out, a lancing pain that swallows your organs and your bones, making you kneel down.

You are not used to feeling things like this. Feeling fear and nervous anticipation and guilt.

(You've felt all these things before.)

(But not at all.)

(Usually you're the one that inspires fear.)

Gritting your teeth and taking a breath, you try to quell your unease and simply move forward, one step at a time.

You won't find any answers by staying in place.

~~

You need to find Gordon.

Finding the others is also important to you. Despite the fact you're not close, there is a fondness for Coomer and Bubby and Tommy that sits inside your heart. You're not sure why or who or where it comes from, but they are somewhat precious to you.

Perhaps how someone finds a pet as a member of the family? Or comes to care for a classmate? You're not sure how to explain your attachment.

(If you stop and think hard about it, maybe you can work it out.)

But you're not sure how you're going to find them on your own. You don't even have a trail, and although you could walk through a wall and take out half the travel time, the void is a dangerous place. You don't know anything about it, but you've spent years exploring that darkness.

You will get lost there, and then not even that voice inside you that knows everything will be able to save you.

The VOX speaks, startling you from your thoughts. It lacks the range that your companions voices (artificially generated) contain, but you pick up on some concern.

Why do you think it's an artificial voice?

"GUARD. YOU LOOK FOR GORDON FREEMAN." It's a question despite the lack of vocal signifier, and you nod, hoping it can see you.

(It can see everything. It reads the code.)

"GORDON FREEMAN. YOU ARE WANTED FOR PASS PORT INSPECTION." 

You can't help but smile. Those words echoed through the facility. Kindly, you thank the VOX for its assistance.

"GUARD. FIND GORDON. FREEMAN." An order you will follow. Your legs feel stiff for some reason, as if new and freshly unfolded, but you force them onwards to the nearest security room in hopes of finding a lead.

You have never seen the security room but you've been inside a thousand times. You don't know what a camera is. You watch them carefully.

You always thought people were trapped in those tiny monitors when you were younger.

(You were right.)

~~

As you walk to the security room, you see a soldier in a hallway.

Just a passing glimpse, but you can't help the combination of fear and excitement that courses through your veins.

He made it here.

He's here for you.

(To save you.)

(To kill you.)

You can (not) wait to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new chapter name convention is Verbs! Words ending in a "-ing"!
> 
> From here, I must admit, I feel like I start to lose some structure in chapters. Or perhaps it really kicks in around act 3. Yes, I am that far ahead.
> 
> Please though, do stick with me. I want you all to enjoy this story, and I want to hear your feedback.


	16. Reuniting

You find the security cameras easily. They're always in the same spot on every floor, so even though you've never been here, you can find them.

(You've never been to the ones on your designated floor.)

The screens flicker, either out of service from broken cameras, or displaying rooms that are filled with corpses, which sicken you to your core.

You're used to it in a horrible way, but you can't help the way your stomach turns at the sight. You quickly turn your gaze away from those cameras.

It takes a moment, but you see Bubby in the corner of a screen, doing whatever little crimes he prefers to do. You should tell him off for doing crimes. You should also set something on fire.

You should not start fires.

You should burn everything as a sign of friendship.

...This thought process needs to stop now.

Bubby moves to another monitor, and you watch him appear, tailed by Coomer and Tommy. Gordon does appear, but he looks tired.

Or maybe relieved?

Is he happy you're not there?

(The antagonist is missing, he is happy.)

You hope he won't be mad when you reappear. You want to see him again, after all. He's your friend.

But are you his friend?   
Maybe not this Gordon.  
...Where is your Gordon?

Don't think about it.  
He's the same place you are.

...Where are you?

~~

Your head hurts ever so slightly as you think about concepts you shouldn't. Perhaps there are times where you can question the nature of your circumstances without problems, but now is not one of them.

There are a few times, you think.

(You know you can when the lights are off.)

(But who turns off the lights?)

(Could you turn off the lights?)

A lightbulb flickers overhead and you feel your thoughts stutter and fracture. You need to go to the rocket test facility. They'll need help enabling the three components, although you don't have a single clue where they are.

You could just look for their flags in the code though, but that's a foreign concept to you, and you don't know what code you're meant to be looking at. Do the computers here run code that trips valves and wires?

Probably not. A lot of Black Mesa was about doing things by hand. Stopping Aperture Science from stealing their research. Creating a sense of community by not having everyone hole up at a computer.

...Yeah right, you think. It was just an excuse to make the security guards do labour their "precious scientists" couldn't be bothered to fiddle with.

You've moved a lot of boxes in this facility. You've never touched a box in this facility.

Where do they even store boxes here?

Hanging from cables, apparently. Or in stacks of explosive materials.

Is that safe for anyone?

The VOX interrupts you. "GUARD. FIND. GORDON FREEMAN."

Then, it follows up. "GORDON FREEMAN. YOU ARE WANTED FOR PASS PORT INSPECTION."

Health and Safety have gone out the window here in Black Mesa. You can stop thinking about it now.

But you still think about code and flags, despite the fact you shouldn't.

~~

There's an elevator that leads to the power supply for the rocket test, rickety but still in one piece. You know it's not safe to ride elevators during a fire, but what about an alien attack?

(You've rarely been in an elevator despite the fact you take one every morning to get from your dorm to work.)

Regardless of your questions, you step onto it. You look skyward, although you could look in any direction, and ask for the VOX to assist you.

The elevator shudders to life and you begin to descend. Over the rumble of the gears, you hear Gordon and the others.

Your heart skips a beat.

You've missed him.

(He has not missed you.)


	17. Loathing

You are greeted with an annoyed hey, and that causes your insides to twist. Not in any harmful way, or one to induce nausea, but one in which unease brews.

You had thought your reappearance would be welcomed, but Gordon seems displeased, angry, perhaps untrusting.

Mouth dry, you try for an ice-breaker, an old joke that you've said often in these past few hours and never in your months of working here.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Gordon raises his crowbar as a threat and your mouth keeps moving, asking questions, prodding, wanting an answer, if not for truth then just so Gordon will acknowledge you.

Death looms in the back of your conscience and you want to seek solace.

It does not arrive. Instead, you are delivered the swift blow of a crowbar that hurts in a superficial way, like a light punch to the arm, but makes your head bleed all the same.

(He never used to hit you before today, not with anger or intent.)

Gordon threatens and dismisses you, and you scramble for words. With disbelief, you ask if he struck you, despite the fact you know it was him, you saw him with all of your eyes.

(You know Gordon didn't mean to strike you, only half of you.)

And he openly admits it with spite, spilling hatred for you out into the air that is already toxic with the radiation below. He won't report to passport inspection, and you hadn't even wanted him to. That was just a ploy between you and the VOX to find him. If you'd discovered him in your own time, then it would have been fine.

All you wanted was to reunite with him (and the Science Team by extension), and protect them from the horrors of the facility like a good security guard should.

You don't know why you're so calm when he mentions your death, anger and perhaps fear or even mourning in his voice. Death is not a big deal for you, it's happened before.

(It shouldn't.)

"Yeah, so?" you answer calmly over another announcement for passport inspection. You'll die again soon, surely. It's not a problem.

(You faintly remember an explanation about death and finality and that humans typically only die once, but the details are fleeting.)

You realize as the VOX speaks that there may be others watching the cameras. You tell Gordon that _they_ know he and the others are here, but you don't specify. You don't even know if there are any others here.

(There are soldiers who will kill you.)

(Says who?)

(Says you.)

"You're not supposed to be here," you say again, although this is less a joke and more a truth. Gordon is meant to be at home, or in the break room on a normal day, or anywhere that isn't the electrical sector trying to hook up a rocket.

Of course, it angers Gordon, and you go back and forth in a banter that you take to easily, but still feel deeply unsettled by, as if you're splitting in two, divided by your actions moreso than before.

You tell him to stay in Black Mesa and die, which is the opposite of what you want for a multitude of reasons, and you can't fathom why.

So you clear your throat and tell him the facts as you know them.  
You'll just have to follow him.

~~

You accuse him of theft as some attempt to settle yourself, and as Gordon seeks comfort and advice from the science team, ignoring the harassment of the VOX insisting on passport inspection, you find it failing. You are not settled.

You're anticipating something and you don't know what.

(A fall. You know this bit.)

Your mouth runs and you try to slip in another joke. You call the crowbar a "piece of metal", which it is, but that has managed to make Gordon crack up before.

(Wrong Gordon. Yours isn't here anymore.)

...You realize after the joke leaves your mouth and the Science Team push past you that you've told that joke to the wrong person, but you can't place why. You just know Gordon isn't the one you're meant to tell it to.

Or he is, and it's the wrong time.

...You've spoken about this before, you know you have, but to who, and when, and what were the details? It's all so foggy.

You don't register Tommy greeting you or showing his passport, or Bubby's ominous words, and only come back to yourself as the elevator starts to plummet.

Looking down into the green sludge, all you can think or say is "oh nice."

Radioactive waste burns. This is something that's obvious, written into common sense and every show you've ever watched, despite the fact you've never seen television, or read a book. Even with your bookcase of science fiction and conspiracy theories, all dog-eared and coated in highlighters, you've never known Radiation to be bad or dangerous.

You've tried to stay away from this stuff in an attempt to not be irradiated.

You don't know what irradiation is.

You're quick to scramble out, ignoring the chemical burn. The others struggle and you stand by, waiting to be asked for assistance.

Gordon does that, and as you grab his hand at the top of the ladder, Tommy comes up with a swiftness you haven't seen yet, pushing Gordon aside just as your hand brushes his.

He falls into the toxic waste and curses you out, blaming you for his fall.

Tommy at least looks guilty for his actions, but he doesn't try to offer a defense.

You'll just add this to the growing list of things Gordon seems to hate you for.

~

You meet a scientist like Doctor Coomer. A clone, you believe. That is, if you're to believe the similarities are caused by Black Mesa and not an outside influence.

Although you're not sure why that would happen. You've heard there's seven people in the world that look identical to you, or so they say. Perhaps it's truly a small world.

So you greet him, and then recognize him. He was at lunch, and he borrowed some money from you for the vending machine. You've lent out cash before, and the scientists have always paid you back, sometimes even double. It's always turned out to be worth it, even if it takes a few days for payment, and you get to make a friend out of it. 

He owes you three dollars and it can wait. It's the apocalypse, you don't need the money.

You pull out a gun and threaten him. You'd like the money.

"You really gonna kill him over this?" Gordon asks. He's disappointed. Exhausted. His words are full of it and you lower your gun.

"Nevermind, we're friends," you answer, secretly relieved that you've chosen not to murder.

Your relief turns to nothing as Bubby caps the man in the back of the head, citing his own debts.

Now you'll never get that three bucks.

~~

Gordon shoots at a bullsquid at the bottom of a pit. It's absolutely loving the radiation it's frolicking in. It's nice and shallow too, perfect for a dip.

...Radioactive waste burns, you know this.

But still... forbidden snack.

"You're kinda shitty at... shooting stuff." You're scrambling for an insult, although this one is shallow. Instead you're watching Doctor Coomer fight the bullsquid, because he looks like he's having fun.

God, you want to have fun too.

You hear Gordon defend his poor shooting skills and you play with him, teasing and prodding, if only to rile him up. When he's just frustrated, not at you, but just the words you're saying, it's like friends having a pretend fight. It's comforting.

Your heart flutters and you realize that you're Not Liking This Realiziation.

But your moment is broken as Bubby gets trapped on the platforms. That's fine though, gives your heart time to slow. Even when you and Tommy are caught in a standoff with Gordon, you feel more calm than you were before.

You try to go with Gordon on the platform, but you won't fit. He refuses to move over and make room.

You back up. "Don't gotta swear at me man."

He spits his displeasure and tops it with loathing of your resurrection.

It stings, sharp and hot.

Your heart skips a beat for different reasons.

~~

Another scientist is kneeling atop the electric grid, hiding from the aliens. It's not a great move, but it's still a move. You kneel down to whisper secrets to him, and Gordon looks on unimpressed.

"Doesn't concern me," he says and you agree, telling him as such. 

The secret was that the scientist was not going to survive, and you were going to kill him.

And you try, but your bullets fail, so you assume that this is some Black Mesa technology you've yet to encounter, yet have heard all the news about during lunch break.

"I forgot, that's uh, that's one of our holograms."

As if angered by your ignorance, Coomer punches you and you black out hard.

~~

You get better, of course. You're back up there with them before you know it. It takes Gordon a moment to realize, but he's impressed.

"Thought Coomer decked you into next Wednesday," he says with a raised eyebrow.

Gordon may be a scientist, but he doesn't understand time travel if he thinks a simple punch can do that.

...Wait.

...Was he just.... making a comparison? A... What do they call them...

Exaggeration. He's exaggerating. God, now you're the idiot.

(You don't understand what it means to exaggerate.)

But you're okay, so it's fine, and you don't have to understand whatever Gordon means.

So you tell him you're okay and leave it at that.

(You know what an exaggeration is. You're going to think about it forever.)

(That was an exaggeration. You're making a point.)

~~

Gordon falls into the radiation waste and you join him. It's your responsibility to protect him.

But he asks a question. "Not supposed to be down here am I."

And you realize. "Sorry, we're kinda fucked."

The fumes, toxic in their nature, get to you. Again, for the second time in as many minutes, you're down and out for the count.


	18. Knowing

You dream, only for a moment. In your dream there is Barney Calhoun and Benry, whose name stretches into infinity, but you don't care to repeat it that much.

They are playing a game of snap with blank cards, smiling as they do. 

"I gotta say Ben, I've never thought dying could be so... boring," Barney states as he sets down a card.

Benry just laughs. "You find ways to spice it up."

They both look at you, still content with their hand of cards. "Hey, you doin' okay?" they ask together.

You don't get the opportunity to answer.

You wake up not in sludge, but on a metal grate where the elevator had previously stopped. Your companions are here, and you keep quiet as Bubby inspects a corpse.

Gordon hypothesizes it's a clone. Bubby corrects him. They're his brothers, grown in Black Mesa. Coomer whispers that they're from Biological Research. 

You've heard rumours about that place. Bad news. Stuff that you don't mess with if you have the choice.

(You can't remember a single rumour about the department.)

~~

There's an electrified puddle on the way back to the rocket. You stroll calmly through it, unnoticing of the energy coursing through you.

But you realize after a moment that electricity and water is a bad combination. It's conductive.

You find your brain shocked and you collapse onto the floor.

(In the back of your mind you chide yourself for remembering physics.)

This is becoming a trend.

~~

It's time for the rocket launch when you wake up. You snap back to reality and continue to obey gravity. The others do too, now all crowded around the button. 

You bring out a camera to commemorate the occasion, and to get a shot of Bubby in the room with the rocket. It makes for a great image. Maybe later you'll put it in a scrapbook titled "Black Mesa Escape Any % Run". 

...That makes it sound like you're going to escape again.

(You know you might.)

You wouldn't find a way back into this place before the cascade though, and they'd never let it happen again. Not unless they had time travel and an inability to learn from their mistakes.

(Time is a flat circle, and you know this will happen as many times as desired.)

The rocket begins to launch and the heat is unbearable. The light threatens to blind you as you stare down the viewfinder and take photos. Bubby slips through a wall and you choose not to question it. You can do it, so why can't he?

That light is getting painful though, so you simply choose to not be blinded.

It works.

(It won't always.)

You choose not to take it for granted and instead snap away in attempts to commemorate the moment.

But with the launch comes the death of an alien and Bubby's continued screaming. You lament it, but with resignation. You're not changing things.

Gordon laughs. "Well don't take pictures," he says, obviously confused why you're watching and documenting something if it's so unfortunate.

You understand this, but it gets scrambled in your brain and confuses you.

Bubby returns soon after though, and your thoughts are redirected into something more concrete.

~~

You are Gordon's friend, although that might be one-sided. You want to make it mutual, and he likes when you make those funny noises underwater, so you take care to do so when you all dive into the water beneath the rocket.

When you surface, you find a body. It's not the first body you've seen, obviously, you've been making more corpses than you can count.

But this one hits close to home. This is Josh, your friend. You like to hang out with him on lunch breaks and-

You've never met this man. In fact, you're not from Black Mesa, so why are you-

But you're a guard here and you know people here, but you don't know a Josh, do you?

It hurts, but the grief you feel is still so intense, even though the distress of understanding where it came from is so wrong and twisted. You question who did this, mind reeling with new feelings that you've known hundreds of times before, and when Gordon steps too close, you turn on him, rage and sadness coming out in a game of blame, now pointed at the man you were trying to hard to befriend.

Gordon wanted to come down here, and you doubt this is the reason, but a tiny part of you thinks he wants to prove how much he hates you by showing you the corpse of your friend. A friend you don't know and never did but means the world to you.

Of course, Gordon catches on to the fact you don't know this man, although you don't know how. He tries to prove his innocence. "How could I have ever come down here?"

"We're here now," your mouth says without thought, currently trying to speedrun the five stages of grief. You do so, and in the process loop back to the first stage, trapping yourself in a ouroborus of emotional collapse.

But then Gordon points out another guard and your brain changes gears hard enough to give you whiplash as you gun them down without restraint. For symmetry, as you reason.

Is there a reason? You don't even know.

Perhaps you are just an anomaly as Gordon supposes.

...This is not helped by the loud sounds you make under the water in an attempt to bridge the gap you've just made.

It is not working, if the disbelief on his face is anything to go by.

~~

You listen to Coomer talk about playcoins while staring at a pigeon. Your trigger finger itches, and you remember that you like pigeons and think they're cool. You also remember they're flying rats and you loathe them.

Your thoughts twist and so does your stomach, the past few minutes winding your mind up. 

You shoot the pigeon and feel like you've thrown your hands up in defeat.

~~

The group enters a pipe and Bubby is the first to warn about the hole. It's a real warning, and Gordon heeds it. Still, Bubby insists, so you choose to join in.

"Don't fuck up," you tease, voice monotone to try and hide your smirk.

"I won't fuck up," Gordon answers.

Still you reply. "Yeah, I bet you will."

Irritation takes over Gordon, although his words are more exasperation than genuine anger. "Y'know, I hate you."

"Yeah, calm down." Hypocritical of you, your heart rate is climbing again. You like when he gives you attention, and negative attention still has the word attention in it. There's something in the banter that you're reading as romantic, despite the part of you that insists this will all bite you in the ass later, and that Gordon is not interested.

(That part of you wants Gordon to be interested.)

So when Gordon clears the hole and Bubby continues warning him, you join in alongside the others in hopes of finding that banter you love to hear.

You're enjoying this! Really, you are! There's a collective energy as you all hassle Gordon that has you feeling like you're all good friends.

(They are all good friends. You are not included.)

In your entirety you enjoy this, although you don't say a lot, simply vibing with everyone else. You remember feeling this happy earlier, like you were laughing with someone, but you can't recall who, or when.

(But you were so happy, and the pain of Gordon hating you didn't exist in that moment.)

But the banter ends as the pipe collapses and Gordon tumbles out. You all follow, but now the bit has ended and you all settle back into your roles.

Still, you said Gordon's name aloud and it felt awfully pleasant.

~~

You watch Gordon hold up a gun. He's stolen it from a cargo box and honestly, that's fine in your books. If Black Mesa is going to cause problems, then Black Mesa tech is going to solve them.

Well, maybe not literally, but it's worth a try.

But the part of you that abhors thievery kicks into overdrive. "Who'd you steal that from?" you ask as Bubby comments on Gordon's lack of ownership for his new gun.

"From the box," he answers.

"...Wanna give it back?" you ask.

Now starts Gordon's exhausted speech and you find yourself a little excited, and a little pitying. He asks why the others can break the rules and steal things.

You tell him that everyone else is being perfectly fine and not doing these things. You are lying. You don't mind that fact.

(You hate lying to Gordon.)

This gaslighting thing you've just thought of sounds really cool. You'd like to start doing it.

You've been doing it for days.

But still, no better time to start than now.

Gordon suggests the mere concept of eating a gun. Inside you are cackling at the prospect. It's so in-character for him to go over the top and suggest something so abstract that it throws you for a loop.

So you bring up something even more abstract and strange - a food suit. It knocks the wind right out of Gordon, stunning him, and you know you've won this battle. He scrambles to defend himself, explaining the illogical concepts of food suits and HEV suits while you question him and poke holes in every single concept he brings up, just for your own amusement.

You ask him why he came here.

He says he came here to escape.

You question that line of logic.

Gordon looks like he's going to have an aneurysm. He looks to the Science Team for support. He finds none.

Damn, sucks to be him, you guess.


	19. Considering

Bubby is making graffiti. You are watching him scrawl the words "Bubby was here" on the wall. You'd also like to etch some symbol of your existence to prove you were here, that you existed.

(You're not meant to exist here.)

But that's also against the rules, but your brain loops back on itself so far that it doesn't register Bubby's act of vandalism as bad, but all other acts are.

"This is good," you say, turning away from the graffiti to look at Gordon. "Why don't you do anything cool like that?"

Immediately, calls of hypocrisy come to life, which you agree with but also think are outrageous. Gordon mentions his own graffiti from when you thought your name was Stong and you are angry. Graffiti is against the rules, and Coomer agrees with you. That's good, it makes you feel more correct.

You try to ignore the part of you that's very frustrated with these steps in logic.

Gordon tries to ask if Bubby is permitted to commit vandalism, since you just witnessed it happen. Is vandalism permitted here?

You trip over yourself. "Yeah- No."

This is frustrating. You just want to go back to trying to work out your name. That caused you less stress than trying to figure out what the hell you're on about here.

Gordon too is baffled by you. "Then- Then correct him! Corrections... officer."

"I'm not an officer, what're you talking about." Your answer is as confused as you are.

You're just a Security Guard, nothing more.

(You're so much more.)

...Your head hurts. You turn and leave, moving down the bland concrete hall in hopes of leaving that conversation behind, and the headache it brings.

~~

You round a corner with the team and find another guard.

You're tired of this, of doppelgangers and guards.

A single bullet in the head ends him. He's dead. This you know.

You've learned about bullets and how humans die.

You're not human though, you won't die that easy.

(You are part human, but not so much anymore.)

~~

Doctor Coomer is in a fighting pose. You're not sure why. Is he angry?

You know he's not angry, and that this is just a default combat animation.

...You called his motions an animation. You're not sure why.

Maybe because it's repetitive?

Yeah... you'll go with that.

Coomer claims he needs spices.

You ask Gordon if he's going to do anything about that. If not, it'll probably be your job. After all, that's what Black Mesa guards do. They help the scientists who are too lazy to do things themselves.

You're not bitter.

(You are.)

But you're distracted from Coomer's spice-and-hunger plight by the groan of something in another room, and Bubby races off, leaving you all behind.

You're not in a rush. After all, you don't want to deal with a Gargantua.

What's a Gargantua?

You've seen them a few times. They're large, armoured, and shoot bees from their hands.

...Your mind is coming up blank when trying to imagine them.

You've never seen one before in Xen, attacking the creatures, laying claim over the landscape. It's a foreign concept. A familiar one.

You're talking in circles again. Maybe you need five minutes to talk things out.

...You're not going to get them now though. You have work to do.

~~

You've seen a Gargantua before but this is the first time you've seen one. The others all stand back in surprise while you simply run out of the doorway and watch with interest.

"Oh nice, look at that," you say, clearly impressed with the amount of problems this alien is causing. It's not as many problems as you cause, but it's still enough.

Tommy is certainly surprised. There's no Wikipedia articles for Gargantuas after all. Perhaps you should write one for him, despite not knowing anything about them.

You don't know what Wikipedia is.

You do know, you've gone on binges before starting with Die Hard and ending with The Royal Family of Thailand, taking a trip to Shrek (2001) on the way.

...What? What the hell are any of those words?

Don't worry about it right now.

So you won't. Instead, you'll worry about this problem right in front of you.

~~

You're going to worry about what's in front of you, which is a good idea in theory, but considering the Gargantua is behind you, that doesn't do a lot.

You are being blasted with hot air that burns your skin, and you quickly decide that you don't want to burn, so your skin stops bubbling under the heat and simply treats the onslaught as a warm breeze.

It still hurts though, so you do splutter some ow's in there for good measure.

Gordon at least has the decency to be concerned for you, calling out your name in surprise and perhaps worry? Emotions are beyond you, honestly. Humans are so weird.

(You feel this one deep inside.)

You sum up your guardly intent and tell the Gargantua to stop.

It obeys, turning away and firing in another direction. You take advantage of this to retreat, coming to stand with the Science Team as your skin cools down. You are not burnt, but you know you should be nothing more than a charred skeleton right now.

Thinking about skeletons makes you unwell.

You don't really have anything else to think about that'll make the feeling go away. Pigeons are ruined now, thanks to the amount you've killed.

You're still sorry about that.

...Sorry to who?

Oh. Them. You vaguely remember. You'll try to kill less now.

~~

Pigeon death sits at the front of your mind, somewhere it should not be as you step forward to sing a song of purple at the Gargantua that threatens your group. You cover the others as they sprint past, intent on leading the beast into a trap, the purple stream trailing in the air behind you. It's a song of death, but you've never sung it yourself, only heard it from your siblings.

You don't have siblings.

You've never heard this song before.

But it flows forth awkwardly from you, like mumbling the words to a song you somewhat know. You keep singing it, except when you pause to call out to Gordon. He turns sharply at your warning, finding the beast on his heels and he sprints back the other way, along with you.

Admittedly, you don't mind the fact it's just the two of you right now running away. You'll take whatever time you can get with Gordon. It doesn't last long though as he doubles back to shoot it.

You join him and raise your voice, charging forward as a song you feel in your bones comes out, memorized like a lullaby you've never heard. Gordon criticizes you and your lack of bullets, but you can't multitask when you don't know the tune so well.

You faintly hear him compliment your voice and your cheeks flush as purple and blue wrap around the beast. A few notes of yellow and green slip in, an accidental shift in pitch from your embarrassment, but you reign it in, defeating the beast and essentially vaporizing it.

Purple and Blue, there was nothing it could do.

Tommy at least seems to recognize it, and you faintly hear him explaining it to Gordon as you let loose a roar of victory.

(You feel ridiculous and wish you'd stop.)

~~

Coomer and Bubby are inspecting the stain by the tesla coils, the only remains of the Gargantua. You think the beast peed a little in fear, which creatures often do when they hear the Song of Death. 

Gordon laughs, although it turns to disgust as Coomer slurps up the puddle. You're also disgusted deeply, but also confused as to why the action is bad.

You take a moment to think about this sequence of events, and slowly understand where the disgust is stemming from.

~~

Tommy begins to talk about Wikipedia, which you still don't fully understand, but explains that he'll make an article for the Gargantua. You're proud of him, and you give him a little kiss on the cheek to explain that fact.

You promptly ignore that he got the name wrong and called it the 'Black Mesa Golem Ape' which is nowhere near accurate. Instead you sing a lilac note tasting of yams and hope he understands where he's gone wrong.

You don't know if Tommy understands, but you know Gordon is off his shits and contracting The Crumbles, as diagnosed by Doctor Coomer. You really wish you knew what Wikipedia was.

~~

Doctor Coomer begins to explain what a chair is. It sounds like a Wikipedia article.

God, you wish you understood.

(You do understand, but barely.)

You need to learn about computers.

~~

The train's rails are electrified. It should kill you.

It doesn't though. Instead it just gives you goosebumps. Under your helmet, you're sure your hair is standing on end. You've never seen the hair under there, but you're certain of this fact. Perhaps if you all took the train it would be fine, but the vehicle had been unwieldy, so you left it behind.

You theorize that four people was too many, considering it's a single player-

You mean, it's not made for multiple passengers.

Yes... that's what you meant.

You're thinking very hard about anything but the train right now.


	20. Encountering

You encounter a guard. He is blocking your way, and you'd like him to move. Gordon frantically begs you, and the rest of the Science Team, not to kill him.

(You'd like to refrain from murder.)

(But a little murder is healthy.)

The guy just kinda rambles on about things that are Very Important, so you tell him to 'Shut the Fuck'. You'd finish the statement, but you cut yourself off, wanting to hear what he has to say. It's Very Important after all.

But you don't care, it's not needed.

Bubby opens the gate for you all, so there's no need to stick around, but you can't help but watch as the guard goes to fiddle with the switch. You warn Gordon not to listen to him, to ignore what he's saying due to his actions. All of you watch as he approaches the switch, pressing downwards on open air and causing the switch to float upwards, lowering the gate once more.

"This guy's clearly nuts, lemme-" Your voice is filled with amusement as you end his life. Part of you thinks it should be used to it and is still somehow surprised. Another part of you doesn't care and takes this as par for the course.

All up, you're just vibing man.

But still, the man is dead, and you have your customs. You sing him a small cocoon and leave him be, your respects paid.

(It'd be very respectable to keep him alive.)

~~

Bubby tries to jump down a pit and is caught by a Barnacle. He calls out for help, and Gordon empties a few shells into the beast on the ceiling. He'd warned them about ropes earlier, true, but it seems nobody had listened.

You're just impressed Doctor Coomer was right. You can use ropes to get across pits. Pretty cool.

Sure, it'd be cooler if they didn't choke you as they did but, hey, it's Black Mesa. You've seen worse. Why one time, you were doing guard duty in the Lambda lab and-

You've never been to the Lambda lab.

Or maybe you have but... Your thoughts are fogging the more you dig for details. You know they're there but you just can't reach them.

Gordon tries to tell you these aren't ropes but you insist they are. For if they help you with pits they must certainly be ropes. You internally compare it to a plucked chicken, a featherless biped who must also be a man.

(Gordon would have loved that joke.)

You also love the joke though, so that makes up for it.

~~

Tommy wins the race along the train lines. He's a clever guy, so you wouldn't put it past him. Perhaps his nuclear book with all its guidelines held the map to this place too somewhere in its pages.

You don't read that stuff. You don't read at all.

But you have read conspiracies so that's something.

As Gordon arrives, you're cocooning the body of a fallen soldier, wrapping it up in a stream of teal and green. It's minty and pleasant despite the fact it shouldn't be. You're also beginning to wonder if the taste changes every time you sing a song.

It's plausible. Maybe there's no consistency.

You're questioned on your actions by Gordon, who is thoroughly confused. To be fair you're also confused. These are customs you've always known and yet never heard of until these past few days so hey, you're kinda in the same boat.

"Don't. Stop. Is this that cocoon thing?"

For a moment you pause, but Bubby swoops in. "You heard him, don't stop."

You can't help but smile. You always loved making fun of Gordon's speech patterns. Of course, only the ones worth making fun of. When he had a stutter, you never mocked that.

...You don't remember him stuttering. You know that he did when you first met, spilling his coffee and then slipping in it like some kind of cartoon but...

You don't recall it at all.

"Teal and Green heal beam," you tell him plainly. Coomer compliments your actions, but that feels hollow, as if he's saying it unconsciously.

Like the ropes, you idly think. Perhaps not a lot of conscious words comes out of Coomer's mouth.

~~

Gordon asks a lot of questions. You mention this. While you do know that he's a man of science and loves to learn, does he really have to ask so much?

God, this man needs to stop harassing you and your strange ways for ten seconds, please.

Maybe his line of questioning is an elaborate plan to steal. He's trying to make you explain yourself so you become so distracted he can take something.

Very unlike Gordon, who doesn't like to steal, but you know this man is a thief. It'd say on his passport if he was. Infractions get put there so the border police know.

(They don't. They don't get put there.)

He threatens to steal a rib cage. You tell him not to. Don't touch, you tell him. Touch it he does. 

You try to ask why he's here. Whether it's here in Black Mesa or here in this space with you, you're not sure, but Gordon keeps talking about ribs and some place called Chili's (that you know is a restaurant but have never known to exist) instead of answering you.

"Are you allowed to be here?"

He doesn't answer you.

~~

A turret tries to assault you all. Luckily the Science Team is well equipped. Together you all take it out before it can do any real damage. 

You guys make a great team.

(You wish you felt like a member of the group.)

~~

You stop walking and the group continues on. They don't even notice you're gone, just talking amongst themselves and making trouble as they go. Gordon even looks happy.

That... that kinda hurts. You know he doesn't like you but...

A hand clamps down hard on your shoulder. You don't even get the chance to react before you're spun around and pulled into a tight embrace.

"Benny, I finally found you. Do you know how long I've been looking for you?"

Confused, you pull away, looking at the newcomer. They're a military man, dressed in grey camo and wearing a red beret that shows they're someone important. There's a scar on their face and a tough look in their eye that makes part of you shiver.

"Who... are you?"

The stranger blinks, concern on their features. "It's Forzen..."

For a moment you stare at them, trying to work it out. You know this man, you know you do, you saw him in a hallway once before and knew that he'd changed his form and-

"I don't..." Your head hurts. "Zenny..."

Forzen grabs your shoulder, grip firm but comforting. "You grabbed the wrong guard, didn't you. Your one had a brain in there still."

You are angry. Of course you have a brain. Who's this random boot boy? Your brother is a very rude person. He needs to leave.

"Fuck off Zenny, you boot licking bitch," you spit. Forzen seems surprised, then angry, then upset.

Then, he seems to feel nothing. A song drifts from his mouth, Amber and Maroon.

You take a moment to understand it as he pushes past, roughly shoulder-checking you as he goes.

Amber to Maroon, I'll be coming back soon.

Exhausted, you lay down on the cold concrete.

He was just trying to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces my two favourite things! Ignoring thematic inconsistencies with in-canon reasoning (Sweet voice flavours) and Forzen!


	21. Excluding

You're sleepy, but that feeling doesn't stay long. You can hear arguing, and as you slowly wake yourself up, rubbing at your eyes, you see Barney holding Benry by the collar of his shirt.

"What in the fresh hell is going on here?! You are going to give me some damn answers!"

Benry seems distressed, grabbing at Barney's wrists. "Whuh- What's the problem bro?"

"Who the hell is Forzen? Why does he know you? How'd he even _get_ here? Does he steal bodies like you?" You can see the wild look in Barney's eyes, as if he's on the verge of losing it. You understand. After all, you're Barney.

But you also understand the reluctance to explain. You're Benry too, y'know.

Barney shakes the other by the collar some more and you watch as Benry licks his lips, trying to find something to say. You know the words are there and yet, you cannot help him.

"Forzen's my brother," Benry finally manages, stopping Barney's assault. "He's... Yeah, I guess he's some kind of thief." He's not sure how to explain and neither are you.

"Your brother's a military man?" Barney asks, still angry, but considerably more calm now that Benry is deciding to cooperate.

There's a nod. "Yeah, he's a boot boy today. He's- We're not- He's not normally like that."

Barney stares for a moment before his hands go slack, still curled in Benry's collar but without that fierce energy. "What... did he mean about having a brain? What the hell was that about? Everyone has a brain, right? He's not some necromancer or some shit is he? If there's magic involved here, I'll-"

"No," Benry quickly cuts in, if only to stop Barney from spiraling.

"There's no magic," you say aloud, alerting the two of them to your presence. They look at you for a moment, then back at each other. "It's... worse than that, somehow."

You know you've said the words that Benry wanted to, but the look he shoots you is still filled with anger and malice. It hurts, but only half of you. The part of you that is Benry knows you are simply afraid of the consequences.

But now you've opened Pandora's Box for Benry. He pulls Barney's hands free, gesturing to the darkness around them. "You've seen me, right? What I really look like, not putting on any kind of, y'know, pleasantries."

"Yeah." Barney crosses his arms, more to comfort himself than for anger.

"He's the same. Guess when I got caught he found out and just... came to get me."

Barney's next question is so fierce that you feel a chill run down your spine before he even voices it. "Was that man alive before your brother showed up?"

Benry shakes his head. "It was never alive. monster_human_grunt never had a brain to start with."

"What the hell does that even mean?" A tone of disbelief laces Barney's words. "That was a person! You just- You're treating it like some kind of robot!"

You wring your hands as Barney speaks, and Benry looks away. "I can't tell you anything more."

"This has gone beyond just 'keeping me safe' or whatever. I need answers Benry."

You can see and feel the hesitation on Benry's part, but you understand that he can't tell the truth. Even if you can't work out the exact truth, buried so deep in your conjoined psyche that you can't reach it without an obscene amount of effort, you know it's not something that Benry can just come out and say.

"Benry...?" Barney moves his hands to Benry's shoulders. "You said I'm not really human anymore, right?"

There's a hum in response.

"...Was I ever?"

Your breath catches and you're drowning in static before you can even process what's happening.

~~

You come to with the sensation of blood rushing to your head. There's a rhythmic motion of up and down that you can attribute to someone walking, and after a moment you realize you're in a fireman's carry on someone's shoulder.

Someone dressed like a boot boy.

"It's alright Benny," Forzen says before you start to panic. His words settle you, but you're still unsure of being so vulnerable. He could certainly dump you in a trap. Maybe he did the same to Gordon and the others.

But Forzen would never hurt your friends.

...Does he know they're your friends?

Your voice feels weak as you talk, like it's conflicted on what to say. You manage a simple question. "Where are we?"

"We're taking a shortcut." There's that chill you know from the void as Forzen steps through a closed door. You shiver, but he doesn't seem to. "That Freeman guy, he's the protagonist. Gotta stick with him if you're getting outta here."

"How m'gonna get out?" you ask, voice slurred. There's a need to run away from this that you're suppressing, thoughts scattered as you try and debate with yourself and your fears.

"Make yourself unneeded." A simple statement with layers of complexity. "I'm just a grunt. A boot boy, s'what you called me, yeah? I can leave at any time."

You realize something. You're a key player in this game.

...Game...

"Make it so Freeman doesn't need you," he says as the void vanishes, replaced by concrete floors and a fresh breeze. "If he doesn't need you, then you can get out." 

You understand those words, the sentiment behind them, but your understanding is overwhelmed by confusion, and any attempt you might make to dissect their meaning is quickly swept away.

Tired and confused, Forzen sets you down on the concrete edge by a railway. Above the stars twinkle and shine, giving you a moment of peace.

(A pretty skybox, you think.)

A beautiful canopy of stars that don't seem to care that the world is going to shit. You want so desperately to lose yourself in it but something keeps pulling you back. There's a thought that you can't quite grasp, but you know that your subconscious is working on something.

Perhaps if you were to dream again, then maybe you'd understand.

You do not dream. Instead you watch as Forzen stands on the other side of the tracks with another guard. He is talking to them, but not in the same way he spoke to you. Now there are strange garbled noises coming from his mouth, like radio chatter that's been put through a blender.

This is the first time you've heard Forzen speak like that.

You haven't really heard him talk at all, considering you only just met some hours ago, but he's your brother that you've known for Far Too Long and his voice is imprinted in your mind.

Although you can't recall it at all when you try.

There's movement by the doorway behind Forzen and the other guard. You wonder what it could be, the gloom of the night not doing you any favours, but by the time you realize what you're looking at, a man in a HEV suit, he's already bringing a crowbar down onto the other guard's face.

Forzen eats a shotgun to the face and drops to the ground limply.

You know he's not dead, not really. He'll come back, just like you do.

But still, you know that bullets to the face hurt, and that dying hurts, and you want to mourn for your brother but something stops you. A part of you feels no compassion for this stranger, and that part wins, banishing emotion to the back of your mind as you instead watch Gordon and the Science Team approach you.

~~

Gordon is displeased to see you, and even moreso considering you were here with the military. But you're relieved to see him again, even if you're outraged that Gordon just shot your brother in the face.

"Oh you guys made it out, that's cool," you say, because it is. It is cool that the group made it out. You were worried about them. You'd like to think they were worried about you.

(Probably not.)

If you'd known at the start that Gordon wanted to come up here specifically and try to escape from the Rocket Launch facility, he should have asked. You've worked in this area a few times and know the layout. Got the map memorized practically, just for a shitty work trivia night that got you a free beer at the local bar.

(You don't drink alcohol. Never seen it before.)

Coomer at least seems glad to see you, but you do wonder how much of his words are genuine. There's so much cheer in his voice that you think it masks his sarcasm and loathing rather well. You'd read more into it, but you're not sure if you care. You should, but you just can't right now.

"Y'know, it was so quiet before you guys came here," you lament as you look at Gordon. Behind him you can see some of the facility, but also the rough rock walls and the starry sky. It's pretty in a way. You think you'd like to have a little moonlit chat, maybe hold hands.

...You've never held hands in your life. Not like, in a romantic way. Is this what the humans call romance?

...You wonder what the bodysnatchers call romance.

What would a mix of that be?

You don't get time to think about that though. Gordon comes with questions, interrogating you on the presence of the military men. He claims you were friendly, and you can't exactly turn around and tell him Forzen is your brother.

Introducing another party to the mindfuck that is your existence right now would just be asking for trouble.

You tell a version of the truth. "Yeah, they had their passport, what was I supposed to do?"

(You didn't see Forzen's passport but you're certain he had one.)

"They are trying to kill us," Gordon starts, ready to tear you a new one.

You're tired and angry and full of frustration at the questions that fill your mind and never get answers. "Looks like you tried to kill them, and it worked."

It's a bit harsh for typical banter by your standards (established in a bar three beers in) but Gordon doesn't even react to it. He just wants to consult with the group and leave you behind.

"I think you're the bad guy." Wow, bitter much? You didn't think you were that bothered by being left alone. "I think you're mean."

Two bullets are fired into your face as a warning and you once again are left to wonder if there was any shred of your kind yet mischievous Gordon remaining there.

"Shut the fuck up! Let me-"

You drown him out with noises and try not to think too hard about Gordon's state of being in relation to yours.

~~

Bubby tries to hand Gordon an egg. You don't know where he found it. Probably from one of the pigeons around the place.

You're spiteful, so you take the egg. It's worth it for the incredulous tone Gordon calls you out with.

He fumbles the second egg and drops it on the cool concrete. 

You do not hesitate to tease him. "Wow. Lil' butterfingers over here."

Gordon laughs and your heart flutters despite the bitterness, but it settles as he sends you away. He wants to have a meeting without you.

You obey, if only because you're not sure if you can fight him on this right now.

-

You try to eavesdrop on Gordon's meeting, but it's not very easy. The group is hidden away in a corner, and you can't really get a good angle without them seeing you. The concrete blocks a lot of the speech, and you can only hear bits and pieces.

You're pretty good at overhearing things you shouldn't, hearing all the secret gossip from your superiors, which don't exist since you're top of the chain, but you could use a promotion.

So you linger near the little alcove they're talking in, trying to ignore the sense of exclusion. Instead your thoughts are directed on what Forzen said to you, and-

Oh god, Forzen. He's-

"Remember what I said." A hand appears on your shoulder and there is Forzen, looking as if nothing happened. "You're not getting out of here otherwise."

"Zenny..." You can't help but speak softly, your anger and fear from before at the death of him now becoming a gentle relief. "What does that even mean?"

He looks at you with a kind, pitying gaze that doesn't suit him. You don't know his expressions at all, but this isn't a normal one.  
"Time for you to be bad."

There's a need to press further, but Forzen steps back through a wall, leaving you be. You're a whirlwind of emotions right now, and the most prominent one is confusion. You understand what your brother has told you, but he's not your brother and you don't _Understand_ what he's said.

What does it mean to not be needed? What does it mean to be bad?

You're just a security guard and Gordon is your friend, albeit acting differently and-

...No. You're not just a security guard. It takes time for you to think about this, but sifting through your cluttered mind is difficult, as if some part of you lives in disbelief somewhere and the other in utter belief.

You're a Security Guard sharing a body with an Alternate Dimension Alien. You're not as human as you used to be. You're losing more and more of yourself to whatever's caught you in its trap and-

You really want to stop thinking about this but you know you have to.

Gordon isn't as human as he used to be either, but he doesn't seem to have some weird Bodysnatcher whispering in his ear. You don't have any answers for the rest of the Science Team, but you'd really like to.

Maybe they're empty like Forzen was, before Forzen became Forzen and-

This is just getting confusing. This thought process needs to go on hold before you start screaming.

~~

You peek around the corner in some hope of distracting yourself from the barrage of existential dread filling you. Of course Gordon sees you and shoos you away.

They're not even talking about private information. Gordon would need clearance if they were, and he doesn't have his passport, so you most definitely should be let in there.

So you turn and kick a rock away, watching it skitter across the ground. It comes close to a pigeon and you tense, mind immediately thinking of murder and then trying to quell that murderous rage.

The head of the pigeon begins to unfurl like some kind of eldritch beast. It snaps up the rock with some kind of fleshy tentacle and then with little fanfare, seems to fold back up into the shape of a pigeon.

...You don't really like pigeons anymore.

You knew there was a reason you didn't trust those feathered rats. Black Mesa must have infected them with something. Good thing you've been killing them.

Quickly, you dispose of the pigeon and fling the mangled corpse away so nobody finds it. No point causing a panic. You'll take care of it yourself.

~~

Bubby seems to have gotten bored with listening to life stories and whatever else the group is rambling about. He rounds the corner and you watch as he pulls a soccer ball from his pocket, flat like a disc. He pulls a tab and it inflates, becoming a kickable ball in almost a second.

There's a few experimental kicks as he tests it, during which you approach, curious. You've never played soccer before, only playing a year's worth of it as a child in school. Conflicting memories yet again. You're getting used to that.

Silently, you give Bubby a look. He kicks the ball over to you and nods. You kick it back.

You think maybe you and Bubby can be friends.

~~

The ball goes many places as the others talk. You catch more than a few glances of Gordon, Tommy, and Coomer sitting together while you play. A few stray words make their way to you, like Tommy's dog being immortal. 

You take note of it as you steal the ball away from Bubby, watching as he rushes you to try and take it back.

From there you two play aggressively, but still with a friendly undertone. The ball goes towards Gordon and you're surprised he doesn't yell at you. Instead he just ignores it, talking about his dreams while Bubby balances the ball on his head.

You're far more impressed with Bubby at the moment.

But Bubby pauses his game to listen to Gordon, leaving you to throw assorted lemon slices around. You're not sure where they came from, but perhaps it's a byproduct of the Resonance Cascade.

At least Bubby seems amused by your antics. He too joins in on picking up lemon slices, and soon you're both messing around, throwing them at each other, hitting Gordon, just making a mess. You don't want to get in trouble by interrupting so you don't say anything, but you'd really like to tell Bubby that you're enjoying this.

You feel like a part of the group for the first time in a long while, if at all.

~~

Gordon has welcomed you into the group, somewhat informally. He says the others claim you're fine, and considering you just played soccer with Bubby, you're willing to believe it.

He continues on about the soldiers and other such when you notice on the roof above him there's a small flock of pigeons. Some of them look to be in the process of mutating, bodies twisting in ways that would make you sick, if you knew you couldn't shapeshift into something worse.

You don't know how to shapeshift and never have.

With a crackshot aim, you gun them down, letting their bodies rain down on Gordon. They're still safe to eat, you presume. Didn't smell any kind of rot on the other ones, and Gordon did mention eating pigeons some time ago. It'd be a nice break from the soda and chips. Maybe he'd enjoy it.

A gift, a peace offering.

Instead he is just baffled. "What the fuck. D'you think the Resonance Cascade attracted pigeons en masse?"

You don't answer him, but you don't really need to. He's not actually interested.

Well, at least he made some kind of conversation with you.

~~

Gordon suggests climbing the rocks in order to escape Black Mesa. You know this won't work, but you haven't the heart to tell him.

...Why won't it work? Surely it would. There's desert around sure but it's better than here.

Or so you suppose, but you know that's wishful thinking. There's nothing beyond that.

What are you on about? Surely there's desert and-

You realize you're trying to climb the rocks, only coming to a halt as Coomer barrels overhead with his Super Legs given to him by Black Mesa.

There is a truth you're about to witness.

...What truth? It's just whether it's feasible to escape via the rocks or whether you need a better position. That's a painful truth, sure, but-

"Well Gordon, I don't think that's a very good idea."

Coomer's voice lacks some of its cheer. You sing a note in panic before you can stop yourself. You don't know why you're scared.

You have buried the truth and hidden it, but it's becoming unearthed anyway.

"There's nothing there."

Deep in your chest you feel something twist. A part of you in disbelief. A part of you in reluctant understanding. Pieces click into place. You hand over puzzle pieces to yourself, hidden in a hand behind your back. Clouded thoughts become crystal clear as You-

As the two that compose You come to a realization.

There's nothing there. You've been to the nothing. It's the same nothing that you've walked through, clipped through. Forzen carried you through it. You strolled through it. You stood in it as you died and came back to life and as you slept.

Gordon questions Coomer and the words come again. "There's nothing there."

Forzen told you to become unneeded so you could escape. You realize you can't hide the facts. There's a breach of confidential information and now You are being bumped up in clearance level.

It's all a game. If you become unneeded, then the game can't keep you there.

You can get out.

But... it's all a game. You're not a Black Mesa Security Guard. You're not a human. You're numbers and code and you're having feelings you weren't meant to and when Gordon goes away- Is your Gordon even there? Was he ever there? What's a Player Character and why is that Gordon? When he sleeps and touches his face like he did when you saw through a skeletal body, what does that do?

Will you continue to exist after he leaves?

...One of you will. One of you will be left in the dark to stagnate.

Are you really-

"Well then we just kill everyone and take it for ourselves!" Bubby exclaims, knocking your thoughts flat on its back.

They're all unfazed. As if they're made not to think about this. As if they can't.

And Gordon, he's got no reason to fear. He-

He's got one of the empty ones.

Oh god.

There never was a Gordon Freeman that you knew, was there?

(You knew him, you know you did you knew a Gordon Freeman-)

(But it was not this Gordon, your Gordon is elsewhere, he-)

(Your Gordon wasn't real.)

(He's real, but just not here. Not now.)

You follow in silence as they all proceed through to the Rocket Launch Facility, and hope Forzen isn't nearby as you help them mow through the boot boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas if that's your thing! I hope a longer chapter counts as a gift


	22. Launching

You are composed of two people (Two wolves you think idly), one being Barney Calhoun, a Black Mesa Security Guard, and the other being Benry, whose name stretches long and is a hassle to recall.

Benry is an entity from outside this world, this... Game. Barney is a construct of this world and is bound by its rules to a degree.

It is, perhaps through the combination of these two personalities that you're able to overcome the dread of being nothing but zeroes and ones and sit Entirely Wrong on a chair in the Rocket Launch Facility, defying gravity as you perch on the arm of it, despite being entirely horizontal.

You've known since the start that this wasn't real, but it's only now that you've _known_ it. You'd buried that knowledge and hidden it, so it makes sense you never truly understood it.

It makes a lot of things make sense in hindsight. You remember watching your friends play games in your teen years, bunnyhopping across the map, creating infinite ammo scripts-

Could you bunnyhop here if you tried hard enough?

Tommy lifts the chair you're standing on, intent on setting it the right way up but he doesn't get far. Gordon splutters as he tries to understand how you're sitting and you simply push back out of reflex and a need for comfort found in good-natured ribbing.

The chair rotates and you remain glued to it as Coomer recites more information about chairs. You don't know what Wikipedia is, but you see the logo and you want to sit there. Perhaps you can perform some kind of osmosis, absorb knowledge of what the entire concept is, and maybe learn about Chairs while you're there.

You are dropped on your head and think it's punishment for wanting to usurp Coomer's Chair monopoly.

~~

The Wikipedia logo doesn't fill you with knowledge. It doesn't fill you with anything but a static electricity that makes your hair stick up under your helmet.

Gordon approaches you to most likely scold you for sitting in the logo and you shush him immediately.

He questions you. You answer him. "I'm editing articles."

This is true. While you're not filled with knowledge, it is laid before you, but it's so overwhelming in volume and size that you don't know where to start.

Your eyes glaze over the "Half Life" article and proceed towards the movies section. "This is Wikipedia."

An egg falls on your head. You don't mind, tuning it out as Coomer explains Black Mesa's ownership of Wikipedia.

(You didn't think Black Mesa owned the site, but you don't want to argue.)

Gordon decides to show you some kindness and ask what you're editing. You want that banter again and you go for it.

"I said uh, you died."

There's a silence as Gordon looks at the other members of the team, and then at you, baffled. "I don't- I don't have a Wikipedia article- What article did you edit my death into?"

You pause, looking at the title of the page. "All Dogs Go To Heaven 2."

It seems your desire for banter worked, considering how Gordon laughs. It brightens your mood considerably. He tries to fight you on it and you brush it away.

He claims it's a false edit. You dispute that. He says he's not in All Dogs Go To Heaven 2. You simply smile. "Oh, you are, and it's not the end yet, so... can't say anything."

(Are you threatening him?)

You think perhaps this is Foreshadowing, but to what, you don't know. Gordon starts to ramble, and you tell him not to argue with you.

Even though this contradicts what you'd said at the start; There are no predetermined deaths.

...One of these facts is up for debate, and you're hoping it's the latter.

~~

You sit on the keyboard in order to log into Wikipedia. Gordon wants to see your edits after all.

Above, the VOX speaks. "ROCKET. LAUNCH."

"Oops."

~~

Gordon can't get into the computers. He wasn't always this bad with them. You're the one who's rather shit, honestly.

"Wait, you just need to sit on one of the buttons, you just gotta..." You take a seat and Coomer copies. Two-Person access is very common after all. Gordon just complains about you both, calling you fifth graders. It's very rude of him. You're trying to help remove these pictures of salad and launch the damn rocket. "This is how you push it."

The VOX complains. Perhaps this isn't the way to do it.

~~

As it turns out, the way to do it is simply hitting a button.

Gordon presses it and the window shutters start to close, which is fine, except you're standing in them. It doesn't bother you much, but you're very flattered when Gordon frantically calls your name and tries to get you out of there. He doesn't want you getting crushed and dying again.

That's... very kind. So kind in fact that your brain short-circuits.  
"Yeahwellnowit'sclosedikindawantedthatokay."

You... don't want to get crushed again. Why'd you even say that?

Scrambled brain. It seems Gordon's kind words really did a number on you.

Despite the scrambled egg that is your brain right now, you do notice that Bubby is atop the rocket. His dream was to go to space, as you overheard before, and now it looks like he might actually make it there.

You stand on the console to get a better look, head clipping through the wall in order to see. A blinding light threatens to hurt your eyes until you decide it doesn't, and you decide to mute the roar of the engine in your ears, permitting you to hear Coomer's desperate cry.

"Bubby, no! There's nothing out there!"

A fear races through you, heart thundering like a horse on the track. Where will Bubby go if he rides the rocket out of the skybox? Will he fly perpetually upwards? Will he fall back to earth?

Will he be stuck out there? Like a roof you can only leave and not enter?

You try and climb out the window with little success. The VOX praises the launch. You're glad at least someone is enjoying themselves.

~~

Bubby returns without fanfare, but Coomer is relieved to see him. You find it comforting, seeing them care for each other.

Still, you're more interested in launching the rocket again, if only for a laugh.

"Can I launch it again?" you ask aloud as Gordon proposes going to sleep. Bubby wants to dream, most likely of his space trip, but you think that can wait just a little longer. "Let's go."

The rocket is in space, according to Gordon but you're stubborn. "Press button one more time please?" you ask. Who you're asking you have no clue.

From behind Gordon, you see Forzen shoot you a thumbs up before slipping through a wall. The blast doors close again as the siren begins to wail. "Thank you."

"Let's do it again!" says Bubby who's more excited than you are.

This time it's you going to space. You run out to grab onto the rocket but fail, not managing to grip the sides. The heat threatens to burn your skin as you run back to the blast doors to see the others inside, ignoring the military that have started swarming at the second rocket's launch.

Sacrifices must be made. Military for a Rocket, you suppose.

Exhausted, Gordon greets you. "Hey."

"Pretty cool, right?" you say as the light becomes blinding. It doesn't destroy you, but it does create a good distraction, permitting you to clip back through the wall and into the room.

Coomer and Tommy say they miss you.

Gordon says he doesn't.

You pretend you didn't hear that.

~~

You take care of the boot boys, along with the Science Team. They're efficient fighters, always making it easy on you.

As you stroll in, Gordon greets you tiredly, but with some kind of underlying fondness. You hope it's genuine and not brought on by exhaustion and defeat.

"Nice," you say with a smile, flopping onto the floor.

Bubby follows. Gordon bids you both a goodnight.

~~

Bubby goes back to space, or to the void. You wish he'd stick around, or tell you what he saw.

~~

As you lay there waiting to sleep, you listen to Gordon tell a story about your actions on Wikipedia.

A feeling of wrongness creeps along your spine. A gunshot sounds, hitting something that clatters like bone, almost musical.

Your insides twist as you feel the bullet pierce your skull, yet it's never touched you.

That Skeleton... what does it mean to you?

You'll think about that in the static ocean that sweeps you away.


	23. Intermission - The Sequel

Barney wakes first. He sits up slowly and stares upwards, or is it downwards, at the void around him. He understands something about this place now that he never used to.

It's still a shock to the senses. He looks at his hands, stares hard at them, as if his skin will fade away and be replaced with numbers.

"You really don't wanna see your hitboxes," Benry says, startling Barney. He's looking at the ground, trying hard not to make any kind of eye contact with his companion. "Or your skeleton. The rigging could use work."

"Last..." Barney swallows past a lump in his throat. "Last time we were here, y'said that I wouldn't know what t'do, if I knew the truth. Said I didn't have clearance. I guess I've got clearance now or somethin', so I've gotta ask."

Benry turns to look at Barney, meeting his eyes as he asks the question. "Benry. What's going on."

There is a silence that stretches almost as far as the void they're in. Barney waits patiently, watching as Benry stops and starts, trying to find the perfect words. He's practically explaining that Barney doesn't exist, and never did.

To deliver such a truth? Well, Barney will wait.

"D'you know a lot about computers?" Benry asks. Barney shakes his head. "You can uh, you can teach them things."

"Like a person?" Barney says, raising an eyebrow. 

Benry takes a seat opposite Barney, wringing his hands togeher. "You ever played Doom?"

Now that's a name Barney hasn't heard in a while. "I didn't really, but my friends did."

"Y'know the Doot Doot Skeletons?" 

"...The Revenants?" Confusion follows Barney's voice. "What's- Doot Doot?"

"Right, that hasn't happened yet..." Benry trails off and Barney is hit with the feeling that Benry comes from somewhere far more elaborate than here. "Anyway, those Revenant things, s'kinda like the scientists here. Not the Science Team, but uh, the other ones. And the boot boys."

"They're demons?"

"Whuh? No! They're- They're just mindless dudes doing- Okay. Think about it like this: humans. They uh, they're all different outside, yeah? But the organs are mostly the same. Y'all got a heart and lungs and stuff."

Barney blinked. "So... the scientists and the boot boys all have the same insides?"

"Yeah, but it's a script. A- A list of instructions."

For a moment there's a silence as Barney thinks. "Instructions like... like the bunnyhopping scripts?"

Benry clicks his fingers. "That's the shit." He seems pleased that Barney is understanding. "Numbers and statements. Nothing else."

Forzen's words come to mind. "No brain," Barney says.

"Yeah." Despite the monotone Benry speaks with, there's some kind of pity there. "But the Science Team, they've all got a brain. They have scripts there, sure, like the boot boys and scientists, but theirs will change."

"...And I'm like them, huh."

"You said you wanted the truth, right?" Benry asks, and there's a weight to this one, like there's information he's been holding back. "Y'still want it?"

Barney holds his breath.

He nods.

"Tell me everything."

Benry explains things as such.  
If the scientists and the boot boys and the aliens, NPCs as he describes them, are Robots, then the Science Team and Barney are Androids. They aren't human, but they can learn, become close to but not exactly.

"So," Barney begins, not wanting to believe the words as he says them. "If I'm an Android, would that... make you Human?"

"For this? Yes. I'm not human." Benry states the facts plainly. "Me and Forzen, we're... You called it 'Fourth Dimensional', didn't you?"

"Are you from the same place as Gordon?"

"No." Benry scoots closer, if only to try and provide comfort. "Gordon's the Player. He's human. Or the dude controlling him is. I'm from somewhere else. Forzen too. I was just... messing around and got caught up here. Thought I'd be safer inside this program. Didn't mean to grab a file with a brain in it."

"That's... not comforting." Barney pulls his knees close. "If you weren't here... where would I be?"

"Blue Shift, fighting aliens, trying to escape." Benry awkwardly places a hand on Barney's head. It's almost brotherly, like he's trying to comfort someone younger than him. "Same as here, just a different locale."

"...Benry?" Barney turns to face him, taking care not to dislodge Benry's hand.

"Hm?"

"Can... Tell me about what life's like. At your place, I mean."

Benry's place. A world far from here. A place where things aren't governed by hard and fast scripts, flags telling true from false, integers that creep up and lists that call values.

A place ruled by the hard yet loose rules of the universe.

He offers a smile. "Where do I begin?"

~~

In the middle of Benry explaining how Forzen is only one of his many siblings, Barney speaks up.

"Will I ever see Gordon again? The one I knew. My Gordon."

Benry shrugs. "Maybe at the end. Never played Blue Shift. Maybe in the sequel."

Barney's eyes widen. "Sequel?"

There's no elaboration from Benry. It seems there are still secrets worth keeping. Having your whole life laid before you, unchangeable and inevitable, well that's just too much for anyone to bear.

He shakes the thought loose. "D'you know how you're gettin' home?"

"Yeah." There's nothing more to it. Barney doesn't push. He gets the feeling that it's a sensitive topic.

"I hope you manage to make it back home," Barney says. "Hell, I might actually miss you."

Benry laughs, ruffling Barney's hair. "Sounds kinda gay man."

"Shut up," Barney barks back, giving him a playful shove.

~~

There is no more talk of the reality of things. Barney tries not to think about the fact this is a space between his reality and Gordon's (or the man controlling him) and instead focuses on the fact this voidspace is perfect for making almost anything happen.

Barney reconstructs his dorm room as best he can, and Benry brings a Playstation 3 into the mix. Soon enough they're playing Heavenly Sword, and when they inevitably get tired of that, Barney finds a Nintendo 64 under his bed and they play Mario Kart.

Barney talks about how he's rarely played games. Benry talks about how he's only played three of them. Then they laugh over how bad they are and desperately try to one-up each other.

They play until they can't handle looking at a screen anymore, letting the devices fade away into nothing as they look up (or what can be assumed to be up) at stars that manifest, showing galaxies that Benry knows like the back of his hand.

Under that starlight, Benry speaks. "Sorry for kinda hijacking your vibes. When we're in the facility."

"You did warn me," Barney says, arms behind his head.

"It'll... get worse."

Barney sits up, looking at Benry. "Can't you just, y'know, stop?"

"Not really. It's... I can't explain it but... until I get out of here, it's gonna get worse. If I don't leave, there's gonna be no Barney left." He looks at the Security Guard expecting some kind of harsh look.

Instead it's determined. "Well then, let's get you home, no matter what. I'd like to exist!"

Benry thinks of what Forzen told him. There's a flag he's thinking of taking, but that will weigh the scales irreversibly. There's no going back once that's taken.

"Yeah," he answers calmly. "You'll exist. I'm sure of it."

Barney is going to be okay. Benry is going to go home.

This is something he's certain of.

~~

In the quiet, Benry thinks about the Skeleton. He thinks he might have to ask Forzen about it. The Skeleton wasn't in the code when the started. He didn't see it in the list of entities.

The Skeleton is a rogue agent, Benry decides. It is not a friend. It's connected to them somehow, but maybe its own insertion into the code is so sloppily done that its tangled its damage values up into Benry's own. Maybe even to Forzen's.

He has no real answers, and Barney most certainly won't know. Benry watches as the Guard sleeps away, loosely curled up on the ugly rug from his dorm room.

Benry leans into the darkness and lets the writhing masses hiding within it wrap around him for comfort. He needs to find out what the Skeleton is, and he needs to make sure it doesn't interfere with his plans to leave.

As he lays down to rest his mind and wait the return of the static ocean, he sees a Skeleton in the sky, standing out against the glimmering stars.

It stares into him, and something from a different place, something that Benry feels an instinctual fear towards, is hiding in those ivory bones.

He doesn't know what the Skeleton wants in exact details, but it holds ill will towards Benry and all the members of the Science Team.

Benry stares at it until his vision goes black, burning that fear into his mind.


	24. It's Just A Game Now

The static ocean that takes you from dreaming as two to waking as one is something you don't notice. Simply put, you open your eyes and you're back in Black Mesa, sitting on a box and watching as Gordon Freeman climbs down a ladder, dazed and confused.

According to Coomer, they'd been planning to roll him down said ladder like a barrel. That's... quite the move. You wish you'd been awake for that bit, if only so you could agree enthusiastically with shoving him down the ladder.

...The HEV suit would stop most injuries, so you wouldn't feel bad about it.

Okay, you'd feel a little bad. Maybe.

(But it's Just A Game so he'd respawn and-)

You scold yourself. You won't think like that right now. Instead, you're going to live in the moment. Let the frightening inevitability of the future come, well, in the future.

Gordon is in remarkably good spirits as he tries to persuade the others not to shove him down another ladder. A fool's errand in your eyes, but he's always been a fool. Even before the Cascade.

Was a fool. This is a different one.

"-Were you trying to kill me?" you hear Gordon say and you hope the 'No' Bubby gives is genuine.

~~

Coomer makes a three day estimate on reaching the Lambda lab. It rapidly begins to change, scaling downwards as you assume the GPS that Coomer's brain has become begins to plot a more effective course to your destination.

(Pathfinding is the word you're after.)

You try not to think in terms of programming, but the knowledge is there now and you can't help but look at it, like a book in large print, pages plastered on the walls around you. The truth is in your eyes and it stands out on every surface as you realize the technical name of objects and textures.

It begins to overwhelm you, but as you blink your eyes, it goes away. You are hiding it from yourself, and perhaps you're relieved. Or annoyed. It's hard to tell.

~~

They think the United States Military has been annihilated. You don't tell them Forzen is still around. He doesn't technically count, but he's also a squad leader so...

It kinda counts, maybe?

Gordon chooses to believe Coomer's bold assumption.

You bite your tongue, and then almost bite through it at Coomer's words afterwards.

"You're not a war criminal if there's no more military to judge you."

Gordon is pleased by those words, a grin coming to his face as he smacks the crowbar into his hand comfortably, readjusting to the weight of it, finding comfort in it.

That's fine but it's also a hazard to be wielding a non-approved weapon like that so you ask him to put it away. The laundry list of infractions this man is racking up only seems to get longer and longer.

"We need to arm ourselves," he argues.

You argue back. "Yeah, don't do that."

It's far past the part of being practical, but you'd like to try and maintain some kind of illusion that you're a Security Guard and that Gordon, as a Scientist, does not need to be wielding a weapon.

...You're just going to ignore the others and their arsenal.

He tries to argue back and you do too, attempting to be soothing as you ask him to sheath his weapon and listen.

Instead of listening, Gordon approaches you. "I'm gonna look you right in the eyes and tell you this," he says. You ignore your thundering heart. He has really pretty eyes. You've thought that since you got drunk one night and found yourself staring at him as he tried to work out whether the 'your pupils go wide when you're drunk' theory was real.

You stutter out. "Y-Yeah, what's up."

"I... am no longer going to listen to a word you say."

It's not very romantic at all. There's no real mood or tension here but damn, if there'd been even a speck of it, Gordon's words just fucking annihilated it. You rush a response. "Okay."

Turning to address the others, you quickly cut in, willing to test his new decree. "Okay, we should get going."

Honestly you wouldn't mind staying here a little longer but you have to make progress. You don't recall why, but the longer you're here, the worse things are going to be for you. How and why, you can't exactly remember, but you know that's a truth and you're not going to question it.

Bubby also wants to go home, and Gordon at least listens when he speaks, following the scientist along.

At least Bubby's still got your back.

You do have one question though, about Home. "Where's that?"

~~

The Science Team handle the train. You never learned how to drive one, since all the transport you needed was in the trams that went around the facility, or in cars that Black Mesa officials drove you in.

It's still awfully fast for you though, and you barely manage to get a seat, hand missing Gordon's wrist as he's sent flying by the inertia. Tommy also comes loose, but he at least manages to get back on.

Coomer reverses the train and almost crushes Gordon underneath it, and you think it's funny in some weird fucked up way, ignoring the part of you that frets and worries. It's like playing chicken, you think, or maybe like when you drive off just as someone tries to open the door.

Except you're driving towards them. And you could run them over.

Maybe... it's not the same.

"Hey, please- Get outta the way please," you say, smirking at Gordon as he trips over his own feet.

He ignores you in favour of lecturing the Science Team on the operation of the train, but you must admit hearing him laugh at your enthusiasm for going home is quite the relief from the tension of before.

Seems he is still listening to things you say.

~~

You watch as Bubby and Coomer argue over a button. It's calming. You can hardly tell anything apart on the console, but you absolutely know Coomer is pressing the 'go really fast' button. You almost think of grabbing Gordon to make sure he doesn't fall again, seeing as he's taken point on the front of the train, but that's not your problem.

(You once saw Gordon fall off a motorcycle that was stationary.)

(You have never seen Gordon and a Motorcycle in the same area.)

The button is hit, the train begins to speed up, and as the Science Team bail, you stay seated, if only because you're not sure what to do in this kind of situation. You've never ridden a train before.

"Alright, we're doing it-"

The track explodes and the train derails, sending you and the cart flying through a doorway.

"Goodbye!"

You and the train fly through a wall into the black void, and all you manage is a surprised 'oof' as you hit an invisible wall, vision going black.

~~

You wake up to Forzen's face staring down at you. "Benny, you there?"

"M'name isn't Benny," you tell him. It's not. You still don't know what your name is. You know the name of your components but right now you're a mishmash of personality and memories. You're a whole different person. A mess. A- 

You don't actually know what you are, do you.

Forzen shakes his head. "Look, I don't care who's there right now. I need to tell Benry something."

"Talk," you say. Talk, he does.

"Did you take the flag?" Forzen speaks with a serious tone. You nod, despite not knowing what he's talking about. You're not holding any flags, and you haven't seen any in- Were there any outside Black Mesa? Have you even _seen_ a flag?

A relief settles on the soldier's face. "Hold onto it. It won't be enough to just have it. You gotta make it stick. Do something... bad."

There may be relief on Forzen's face but you are not sharing the expression. "Bad?"

"I'll handle it, I can- Look. Just get him into the room near surface access. I've got this." No details, typical Forzen. He likes his surprises. You do not, except once Gordon threw you a birthday party because he knew you got really excited at surprises and-

He clamps a hand on your shoulder, tight but reassuring. "You'll be okay, Ben. I'll take care of it. Just keep going. We'll be home soon."

For a moment you feel homesick.

Then you just feel sick.

The worst part is, you can't tell why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naming conventions... I've really fucked myself with that one huh


	25. It's Just Some Whispering

Forzen is with you in the void, and then he is not. Your sickness does not abate, sitting deep inside you as you traverse the blackness. Sometimes you see glimpses of rooms far away, lit up and idling, waiting for someone to enter, but they are either rooms you've entered hours ago, or ones you've managed to bypass entirely.

With all the time you've spent in this void, cold with its absence of temperature (which causes you to consider what 'cold' could be in more scientific terms), you'd think that you could find your way around more.

In the end, Forzen reappears, grabs your arm, and pushes you through a wall. 

"That body really did a number on you, huh. Wait 'til I tell Mother."

You try and think of a mother. You imagine a kind woman with brown hair that sits on her shoulders and a dress that she inherited from Grandma and refuses to throw away.

You think of a writhing mass of eyes and teeth and darkness that inspires such deep primal fear inside the remnants of your monkey brain, but also a heartfelt love.

Very quickly, you try not to think of mothers and instead on the fact you've found the Science Team again, and Bubby has just shot a man in the face.

You're feeling a bit too uncomfortable right now to sing a mourning song and cocoon the body. If you sang, you're not sure what might come out.

It's good that you chose not to announce your return with a traditional cocooning of the body, seeing as Coomer suddenly announces that he can access the man's memories. Apparently being friends with people lets you do that.

Black Mesa's tech really is something, you suppose. It's painfully clear now why they made you sign a new NDA every week before lunch break. You just wish you'd seen anything that was worth signing that paper for.

Or at least, you'd seen it before the world went to shit.

Out the corner of your eye, you watch as Coomer makes some kind of horrendous noise, sucking a tiny wisp of life essence out of the corpse. You wonder if Black Mesa really was trying for necromancy, or if this is some bizarre computer thing.

(You quickly stop thinking about the fact your world is a fiction and pursue the more interesting thread of Science Facility Engages In Necromancy Just For Fun.)

It is very difficult to ignore the fact The World Is Fake as you stare at a whiteboard covered in blurry text (a low resolution file), so you turn away, finding Bubby at your side.

"Yo, you wanna help me?" you whisper to him. "Got somethin' that'll, that'll get us closer to home."

Bubby grins. He's eager to hear more, and you'll tell him you know.

~~

Gordon doesn't like that you're whispering to Bubby, or that Bubby is whispering back.

You can tell this is going to be the theme of the evening.

(You wish you weren't whispering, and that you didn't trust Forzen, and that you just told Gordon the truth.)

But he does welcome you back into the team, or just to the group, and you feel a little upset knowing what's coming.

...What's coming? You don't know. Is something going to happen to Gordon?

You try and think about it, but it doesn't come to mind. A repressed thought that sits deeper than you can dig. You're hiding something from yourself.

(You have the feeling you wanted to be more open with yourself.)

You wish you knew what was awaiting you all, and what the hell a flag was.

~~

Gordon and Coomer fight a shark. You let them. You're not one for tussling with creatures that big.

Sure, you may be bigger, but you're also very small and have never fought an animal before, or anything for that matter. You've killed lots of things in the past few days, and most certainly during your youth, but you haven't killed anything before the Resonance Cascade-

You're getting your thoughts mixed up again.

At least you know you're not losing it now. You're just accessing two lots of memories.

...You think you may have preferred thinking you were losing it.

~~

You whisper more secrets to Bubby as everyone recovers from the ordeal with the shark. He whispers some back. You're both making a plan to lure Gordon to the room.

At least Bubby is your friend in this scenario.

"You have to-" Your quiet words end as Gordon approaches. "How's it goin."

"I'm talking about how I want to get going!" Bubby quickly says, trying to shift the attention away from your conspiring.

"Yeah we gotta go," you add as Gordon passes you by.

You hope he's not going to work it out. You almost think he's not smart enough to.

Almost.

~~

There is a room full of barnacles, or ropes as you also call them. You're not sure which name you like more, but you also seem split on wanting to call them by both names.

You and names... really is quite the problem.

The door closes and sticks shut, which it shouldn't. There's no protocols for this. It's made more evident by the fact none of you can get it to open, and the shouts of your comrades is doing nothing to assist in that.

You see a flash of military camo through the door just for a second, too fast for anyone but you, who has a second sense for that particular pattern.

"Open door?" you ask, repeating yourself in varying tones as you knock your knuckles on the metal. "Door open?"

It slides open and permits you all entry. Overcome with relief, you walk in and are immediately caught in a rope.

You hope this isn't going to be a trend.

~~

The barnacles have disabled gravity for you. Gordon is concerned.

You find nothing wrong with this. It's not the first time you've floated through the air, and it won't be the last.

~~

You're confused, if ever so slightly, about things. Since your realization, facing the truth of reality, you think you've been acting a little different.

Looking at the world in a different light.

Or maybe you've just come to terms with who you are. That being, that You are composed of two people who are You and also Not You, and that technically there's three people here, because you are so much of an amalgamation of personalities that you exist only when both of the Not You are present.

But they are still You.

...You think realizing your components, and those pieces being aware of the other, is what's changing you.

You hope the Science Team isn't noticing. You'd hate to upset them.

You just have to hold it together a little longer.

~~

Red light coats the hallway, bringing an ominous feeling. It's like a haunted house, if you'd known what the hell a haunted house was.

Perhaps Coomer could tell you.

...You don't need that information. You already know what a haunted house is.

On the floor is a dead vortigaunt. Of course, you're the only one who remembers this name. Nobody else seems to be aware of it, considering how Gordon fumbles around for names like 'vandelays' and Bubby offers 'varginfellows'.

Their assumptions are close to 'vandalism' and a part of your brain that has lied dormant in the middle of all this stress comes back in full force. "Vandalism?" you ask, looking at the body and then to Gordon.

"I'm not about to vandalize a body," Gordon quickly says, which confirms your suspicions. Only someone quick to deny the crime would be considering it.

...No, that's stupid. The innocent are quick to deny too.

"-And even if I was, it's not your department!" Actually it kinda is. That violates security rules. You're sure it does. It'd say so in your little security book.

You didn't get a little security book.

You should get one though. If only so you look more professional and the scientists start respecting you when they decide to roughhouse with the microwave in the breakroom.

Whipping your thoughts back around to the matter at hand, you speak. "Yeah, stop killing people please."

There is hypocrisy in your words and you ignore that as you internally list off every single person you've killed in this facility, and then before this facility, and before this world, and-

Now Gordon is accusing you of murdering innocents. You're the wrong person to say that to. 

(You're well aware but it's not like you can un-kill them.)

At least he has the decency to admit to murder too. You're gonna lock him up. Perhaps yourself too. Maybe you'll get locked up together. Two little criminals. Murdering people. Look at you go.

You bite your lip to calm your racing heart as Bubby shepherds you all along. Gordon doesn't. Instead he starts to get mad at your hypocrisy, but in the way you don't like.

A song of calming blue, tasting of ocean salt and blueberries and toilet water, comes from your throat and enters Gordon's own, albeit messily.

He chokes a little bit on it, and you hope it's not the toilet water flavour that's caught in his throat.

...You've never had toilet water before. You don't want to know why you know that taste so well.

~~

Apparently Gordon thinks your calming Sweet Voice tastes like blue raspberry. Interesting. It seems he has different taste buds to you.

~~

There's more sharks in the water. Great. You don't wanna deal with sharks.

You watched a special documentary on them in school. There, you learned that some sharks eat their siblings in the womb. That fact fucked you up for a few days.

Tussling with these things seems like Doctor Coomer's division, so you take to sitting on a small pole in the middle of the water.

It's good that you've made it there too. Bullets start to fly as Coomer pops in and out of the water, absolutely wrecking this shark's day.

"I'm trapped," you lament half-heartedly, more for the fact you'd prefer not to get shot, as opposed to fear of sharks. If you really had to, you'd show that animal a thing or two. "I'm trapped, this is a disappointment."

Gordon laughs at you, and you find yourself smiling. 

You think about your flag and the smile drops.

You don't know what your flag is. Your smile picks up again.

"What's up Benry?" Gordon asks, and despite the wrong name, you still manage to answer him.

"Oh what a bummer, I'm trapped bro." Your reply has the playful monotone drawl you save just for Gordon. There are other words that come to mind that you could offer instead, an inside joke about the aquarium you both visited some time ago, or about how Doctor Merth from the Level E Labs once asked who'd win against a Lion or a Shark, but you can't make them happen.

He did tell you he was quite influencial. He did have the potential to overwhelm you.

...You clutch a flag subtly and try not to think of your brother's actions.

"Guess I can't do nuttin," you lament, falling just short of a playful smile.

~~

Gordon beckons you through the dirty water and you follow him, eyes stinging with dirt and grit.

It seems he's taking a shine to you and your antics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _You think realizing your components, and those pieces being aware of the other, is what's changing you._
> 
> This line exists because I took a break for a few days and when I came back to writing this fic, I felt like I'd lost the vibe entirely. I'm very sorry if the quality starts nosediving from here on out. My brain is becoming a sludge.


	26. It's Just An Ambush

"You're hurting a lot of people man," you say. Gordon has done nothing right now. Coomer is the one who shot a bullsquid. Still, any excuse to try and rile him up.

He asks if it's a person, then explains it is a beast.

You ask why he has to kill it.

He answers it's shooting slime. You did in fact see that happen. You were hit with it days ago and simply chose to not be injured. "I don't wanna die," Gordon says.

You blink. "Huh? Okay."

It's a good enough answer for you. You're willing to let it go.

Gordon is not. "If you're gonna act like a first grader, then I'm gonna act like a first grader."

You don't know what a first grader is. You never went to school. You're not human.

Still, your mouth opens and you make loud childish noises, pretending to whine like you're five years old.

Gordon never stood a chance. He announces his loss immediately. "He's better at being a child than me."

You wonder what a child is.

~~

You call this a psychic puzzle. An old joke you used to make about Gordon's theoretical physics degree when it was misspelled in an email.

This may not be your Gordon, but he does finds it funny all the same. "Physics!" he corrects. "This isn't what I meant when I said to pretend to be a first grader."

You still don't know exactly what that means. "Yeah, what _about_ physics...."

...You don't know what physics are, and you've never read a Black Mesa email.

You're gonna think on this one for a little while. It might be important.

~~

You've worked out physics and emails. Congratulations! You've remembered things! Now you have to work out how pistons work. You're not keen on it, seeing as they could crush you, but Tommy seems eager to try, and you want to be helpful.

Besides, maybe you can befriend Tommy through the power of science.

It takes a long time to work out how to pass this area. You spot a ladder in the back of the room, but nobody takes notice of it, so you keep quiet.

Instead you try to jam the piston with a box, and when Gordon gives you that questioning look, wanting to know what the hell you're doing, you force a lie. Maybe it's just to see if it makes him angry, or maybe there's something stopping you from trying to be genuinely helpful, but you can't help the words that come out of your mouth. "The physics work."

Coomer comments on the success of your test, making your chest feel warm and light. Gordon laughs at it. Probably because you didn't write it down, so the evidence is lost. "How does this help us?"

"Wait," you answer.

"For?"

"The end." 

You don't explain what that means, or when the end will come, but you very much would like to sit here and wait for it all to reset back to zero. Something feels unsettling but you can't tell what.

~~

At some point you get tired of Gordon's failure, so you bring a larger box in and use it as a platform to demonstrate. He actually uses it too.

You can't help but smile.

~~

As Gordon makes it over, you tease him gently. Calling him a chicken head and a little baby is a strange insult for you, but it's something you've always said, even if the words never left your lips, or came to your mind.

Gordon ignores you though, and you take that chance to go conspire with Bubby on the other side of the room.  
"He can't even get over this fuckin'- he's a chicken head." You like teasing Gordon and Bubby is much the same. You're on the same wavelength, snickering behind your hands as you look over at the man in his ugly-ass HEV suit.

(You actually think it looks quite fine.)

"He's a fuckin' chicken head," Bubby agrees, grinning. "Fuckin' little dumb bitch kid."

You smile. "Little baby bitch."

"Slap him on the ass," Bubby says, making you hold back a snort of laughter. He's also aware of how stupid it sounds, but his urge to laugh and yours is compounded as Gordon approaches, likely having heard the whole exchange.

"Hey, what's up?" There's that knowing tone, the one Gordon likes to invoke when he's aware someone's talking smack about him. Just like your Gordon. The one from before this weird day started.

(Except your Gordon doesn't talk.)

(And you've never met that Gordon so you wouldn't know.)

Bubby, bless him, dismisses Gordon. "Can't friends talk?" he asks, telling Gordon all he needs to know. Which is to say, he tells Gordon to 'Mind his own business'.

And so Gordon does, leaving the two of you to pretend you weren't conspiring and continue about your day.

~~

Gordon points out the yellow mess on Coomer's pants. You're aware this is a texture brought on by combat with alien lifeforms. You're also aware this is blood and it's soaked into cloth.

You're also aware it's not actually cloth, but you're going to stop thinking about that Right Now.

There's criticism in Gordon's words, and you feel yourself leaping to defend the doctor, despite the fact the two of you aren't relatively close. "Yo don't make fun of-" you pause, uncertain whether to call him a friend. "-Doctor Coomer."

Coomer begins a ramble about the Lambda Lab and travel time, and Gordon takes that as an answer. You know Coomer can fend for himself, both physically but also in the realm of conversation, yet you can't explain why you wanted to defend him so strongly.

...He's your friend, you realize. You're still new to having friends, even though you had quite the social circle in school and went to parties through college constantly and had wonderful friends that you met in middle school and still meet up with on the weekends.

Friends. Somehow, that concept unsettles you.

~~

You've found the Wikipedia Server Room. The others are quick to leap to action, clearing out aliens while you simply bask in its presence. It's handled easily enough, leaving you to stare and admire the racks of servers.

Gordon looks at you, and you assume he's curious about your uncharacteristic silence, so you explain. "Welcome to the Wikipedia Server Room!" Your voice breaks its monotone for a moment and you hope he can tell you're excited.

He laughs. You try not to blush, or have your heart flutter, or think about all the times before the cascade you'd catch sight of Gordon smiling and starting the same reaction.

You've had it for him even before you had someone to share your body, and now they're deep in the same puppy-love pit as you.

Gordon is surprised this is the server room. He mentions the other room you'd all been in before, where you'd edited the articles, and you explain that this is the body room, and where you had been was the brain room.

He's amused by your response, but that soon turns to shock as Bubby punches a server, making it explode. Coomer joins in too, destroying the tall servers that serve to host all the information.

"All the articles are online for free!" you cry out, a contrast to Coomer who cites that nobody will ever edit the articles again. Gordon is shocked, while Bubby simply doesn't care, destroying each and every server along with Coomer.

Tommy, bless him, has apparently read every single one. It's impossible that he's read anything, considering he's not real and neither are you or Black Mesa or anything here, but you also believe that he's absolutely got the information stashed somewhere in his code, like a little zip file waiting to be opened. Maybe between him and Coomer, they can rebuild Wikipedia when the world deserves to have it again.

~~

A scientist begins talking about trackers in Gordon's suit. You feel cold, uneasy, casting Bubby a side glance and seeing realization spread across his features. Gordon is the reason they're stuck here.

You realize something too. This is what Forzen planned. He must have seen you making plans, talking to Bubby, whispering and conspiring about nothing in particular, and now he's laid this perfect little trap.

Bubby slides closer to you. "You have a plan, don't you."

"Yes," you answer quietly, pained with that truth.

Eventually, the scientist says too much. "This guy's talkin' reckless," you say in some attempt to ruin the credibility of his words.

Gordon disagrees. "No, he just gave us extremely- I would say that's the most valuable advice that we've got yet. He said that my suit has tracking in it. They got me covered with GPS chips."

You watch as he looks at his hands, uncertain. "Y'know this guy looks a bit crazy."

Coomer immediately smashes the dismissive tone of yours to pieces. "Gordon, that means you've been leading the military to us this whole time!"

That's not at all what you want him to think.

(It's not true anyway, the military simply belongs in those rooms. They cannot find you. You simply meet them.)

Something takes hold of you at those words. Something dark and bitter and tasting of copper that you won't sing so it sits inside you and festers. "Oh, maybe you need to die."

You don't think that at all! You don't want anything to happen to Gordon, he's a good guy! You just want to go home, and you want Gordon to stop being mean to you. (Or continue because you're kinda into it, you think.)

Baffled by your words, Gordon tells you he doesn't need to die. You agree. He tries to find out more information about the GPS chips.

You shoot the scientist in the face, leaving Gordon in the dark.

Coomer begins to answer Gordon's questions, and you sing a song of mourning. Though you don't coocoon him, you do make sure to sing every note, in some hope he'll find peace, despite the fact he never had a soul or was alive and there's no afterlife here.

No. You still refuse to believe this world is entirely fake. It can't be. You're at the opposite end of things now. You've had the veil pulled back, and now you choose to believe your world will keep spinning even still.

Your song ends, and you watch as Gordon struggles to come to terms with his new truth. It's getting to him, and so you attempt to lighten the mood. "hev," you say in response to hearing the word "H.E.V".

It cheers him up a little, and you think you can live with that.

~~

Tommy feels the B-Shaped door is ominous. Buh-Door, as he says. You think they look like glasses. Maybe there's a visual hazard ahead.

Gordon is confused. "What are any of you saying."

"Buh," Tommy says. "Buh," Bubby concurs. You smile. "Buh," you add.

At least the mood is on the way up again.

~~

The others handle the cold room. You're not one for the chill, so you just pace around the place to keep warm. Still, you're glad to hear Coomer has graduated pre-school.

You haven't.

~~

A guard stands, ready to tell Gordon something important when a bullet cuts him short. You're surprised, but you've seen so many people die that you can only manage a bored "oh no" in response. Your apathy is skyrocketing. Not good.

It seems Gordon assumes one of your group did it, but you ignore his rambling to sing your mourning song once again. You'll be a professional by the end of this, singing it far better than your siblings, which isn't really something to brag about.

Gordon's anger at the senseless murder is turned on you. "So Benry, maybe if you know so good that you just kill the other guards, what was he gonna to say to us?"

You lean forward in thought, smacking your lips together as you inspect his body. Gordon assumes you're licking him. "Don't lick him!"

The vibes Gordon are radiating are rancid, so you decide to match it. "I think he was gonna say 'security'," you answer out of spite. Gordon doesn't believe you, starting another angry ramble when your brain shorts out and you simply say that the guard is sleeping.

"He's dead," Gordon answers as you both watch Coomer destroy this corpse's head with punches. You sing another song in hopes of making sure their spirit moves on and doesn't attempt to strangle the doctor for disrespecting the corpse.

You really hope it works.

~~

You tank a grenade. Gordon is impressed.

You can all tank grenades though, so you're not sure why.

~~

It's sad you have to kill these assassins. You don't know why, but it is. So you ask Gordon why. "Why you gotta be kililng people?"

You are such a hypocrite.

~~

"I don't think we should be worrying about this," you say as you walk past an assassins body. Perhaps you're trying to foreshadow.

Gordon doesn't seem to care. He's too occupied with trying to calm Coomer's rage state.

~~

Tommy begins to unload a clip into some moths. They look so realistic, but they're also a low quality looping gif. You see both and can't comprehend it.

Instead, you revel in how ridiculous this all is. Especially when Tommy launches a fucking explosive at them.

"Nice!"

You stare for a moment before deciding to join the chaos. Gordon is stunned, flipping between anger and disbelief and joy as you and Tommy try to annihilate the bugs, and as Bubby tries to nudge you all onwards, he sees your actions and joins in. Soon even Coomer is joining in.

There's a laugh you can't share but you feel it, bouncing around in your chest, shared between two souls as you both take solace in this tiny pocket of amusement where no military or aliens exist.

Just some moths that refuse to die.

~~

Apparently the moths have killed a man, judging by the skull Tommy presents Gordon. It tips him over the edge, making him cry out in confusion.

"Yo, it's a donut!" you say for some reason that even you can't explain.

~~

You and Bubby start trying to nudge Gordon towards surface access. Gordon is nervous about airstrikes, but you assure him there's nothing ahead, look at all those empty hallways. Bubby is much the same, assuring Gordon they're on their way home.

"We're going on a mystery walk," you say because this facility honestly is a mystery. None of you have been in this area, so its halls with all the twists and turns are new to you.

Bubby points out a medstation in a room. You notice it glowing brightly. Forzen must have put it there as an extra little lure, just to try and get Gordon to enter the room himself, if not persuaded by you.

You also spot a small setup. It stuns you. "Wow, they got- They got TV and Blu-Ray, high definition."

It's 2007. Blu-Ray's as popular as Betamax will ever be. That is, it's not at all. Why are you so invested in that?

(When the PS3 drops then you'll see.)

"They got a couch-" Gordon isn't interested in those things. Even Tommy thinks Blu-Ray is good. He's somehow managed to join your side without even knowing what's going on.

Gordon doesn't want entertainment. He wants to go home. "Do any of you want the medkit?" he asks, seemingly intent on moving on to the room around the corner, ignoring this decoy that Forzen has set up.

You begin to panic. This needs to happen. You need to get Gordon in this room, and you need this Flag to take, and you need to accept the consequences no matter what.

And you still don't know what a flag is, or what's going on.

"Do you like HD-DVD, idiot?" You look at Gordon, trying not to focus on his confusion. "Or do you like Blu-Ray, friend?" A smile sits on your lips despite how wrong it feels.

For a moment there's a discussion about what year it is. You have two conflicting answers, so you instead choose the safe statement of "what do you know about the future" and leave it at that.

But Gordon doesn't seem fussed about years. Instead he's asking around the group for who needs the medkit. He asks you, and you feel yourself starting to sweat.

"Wanna go in? Please?"

"Why do you care?" Gordon's starting to see through your actions. You curl your fists, trying to keep calm, not give anything away.

Everything is about to change here, and this is your last chance to stop it.

"I'm okay, I don't like tv," you lie. You want Gordon to enter the room.

"Alright I guess. Okay, I'm gonna go for it."

You watch Gordon enter the room and know that you've lost the chance to ever go back to how things used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I initially fucked up the chapter after this one so I have like... so much shit to do.
> 
> Also the start of act 4 feels so weird to write I've like, lost it. tbh Benry isn't really in it a lot but still


	27. It's Just A Betrayal

The lights go out.

You didn't expect this. None of you did.

"What the hell?" Bubby asks, bumping into you.

You try to look through the gloom but find nothing. "Ohhh it's **dark** in here!"

"Who the fuck knocked out the lights?" Gordon shouts as he stumbles around, trying to find some kind of switch. You know there isn't one. You know this darkness won't be fixed until The Act Is Done.

Wait... what's the act?

And why can you feel the texture of a flag on your fingers.

...Benry?

Footsteps startle you. The crackle of a radio tells you exactly what's going to happen.

"There he is, Get him!" Bubby says.

It's the beginning of the end.

A solid punch knocks Gordon down, and you can hear the soldiers wailing on him. You're scared, you want to stop them, and yet-

You can't.

"You _finally_ gave me a reason to take care of business!" Bubby says and you know he's grinning despite the darkness surrounding you.

Tommy's panicked tone cuts you deep. "What is that man doing?! What- What is he doing?!"

"I told your stupid ass you fucked up! And now you're paying the price!" Bubby's words are full of venom, ignoring the pained cries of Gordon, who is begging for help. You want to help him. You like him. He's your friend. You care about him and the last thing you want is for Gordon to be hurt.

"Ohh, oh my god, this is like, this is a big fight." Gordon is calling for help and yet you stand there, feeling Bubby hold your arm, feeling the cloth of a flag on your fingers, feeling unable to help. "I've been waiting for this moment."

Tommy's voice is so shaky as he cries out, likely as lost in the dark as you are. "But Mr Freeman is gonna- was gonna help us get outta here!"

A wave of anger washes over you, drowning out the rest of Tommy's words. The flag leaves your fingers and you know that it's been pitched, now flying strong. You can't stop the breeze that carries it any more than you can stop the words coming out of your mouth, despite how you try.

"Do your job right and he gonna be **dead** soon!"

Gordon begs for help. Coomer cannot.

None of you can. But something in Coomer's words catches you off-guard. Perhaps they can all see, and you're the only one stuck in the dark, unable to know the truth. "Oh dear, what are they doing to his-"

There is a slice. There is a muffled groan.

There is Bubby's voice. "Oh my god, his arm! I didn't tell you to do that!"

"Oh! They separated his arm!" The Flag stops you speaking with the fear and anxiety that rattles in your ribs. "What the hell."

You can't even see. How do you _know?_

Tommy cries out in shock and you wish you could see, if only to know what exactly is going on, what the damage is, what's happening, what-

What did your brother do.

What did Forzen _Do?_

"Not Doctor Freeman's right arm!"

"What are we gonna do with that?!" You ask, looking, trying to find Forzen. There's no reason for it to go this far.

(And you knew it had to.)

You didn't want this to happen. "It's not- It's s'posed to be _on_ the body."

Put it back Forzen, you think. Put it back, Put it back, put iT BACK.

Bubby just laughs and brushes it away as the soldiers begin their work, hauling Gordon away. You can't see where they are, but you do hear Coomer's warning. You feel as Bubby pulls away from you, and then you hear him yelp as something hard collides with him. Tommy lets out a surprised scream, Coomer having long since gone, and you barely hear Forzen speaking, beckoning Tommy towards him with the promise of a beyblade.

You're alone in the dark, an anger that is not yours festering in your chest, spreading through your bones.

You didn't want this. You wanted to go home and play Heavenly Sword.

But Gordon wanted you to be Bad. He wanted a reason to hate you, and it lined up with your own needs.

You didn't want to be bad, but now you have to be.

It's the only way to make a happy ending.

It's the only way to go home.

You're so sorry.


	28. It's Just Some Regret

Your name is BENRYBENRYBENRYBENRY-

You have betrayed your friends.

Your name is Barney Calhoun.

You have become an accomplice.

There's no comfort to be found in the darkness. It doesn't respond to your whims like the other void, the one where you can make beds and tables and pretend the world isn't falling apart. You can't summon eyes and teeth and pretend you're at home and this is a bad dream.

This is all real, or as real as something fake can be.

It's like you're adrift in a sea, lost and unsure. Is this grief? Sadness? Regret? Guilt? Anger? You've never known these emotions before, not truly, not in this intensity. You knew of them in passing, and then they would do just that; pass. You'd recover and be back to yourself in the blink of an eye.

Now, you're feeling things, and the feeling is staying, burying deep into you until it's all you can feel, and you don't remember what it was like before this moment.

It eats at you, consuming your thoughts. You bend down and curl into a ball in hopes that'll go away. It doesn't. You're experiencing two people's worth of emotions, three if you believe that You exist separate to the two souls that compose You, and can feel all on its own.

"Hey... Benny?" Forzen's voice sound distant. You try to curl up further, as if you'll become so small you'll vanish and no longer have to deal with the consequences of your actions.

It doesn't work. "Hey, Ben." You're being pulled out of your little ball and you can't work up the effort to stop Forzen as he unravels you. He's kneeling down, you realize, and there's concern on his face. It doesn't look right. He's not the one who gets concerned. "You okay?"

"No," you confess, voice monotone and western. Forzen raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't say anything. Instead he reaches into one of his bags on his belt and withdraws a small cloth, stained with grease. It's the thought that counts as he offers it to you, and you take it, rubbing at your eyes that-

You've been crying, and you didn't even know it. You don't even know how to cry.

You don't know how long you're sitting there, drying tears that just won't stop coming. At some point, Forzen has taken a seat next to you, and now you're leaning against his shoulder, both repulsed by him but also in search of familial comfort.

"You really liked him, didn't you," Forzen says, quietly. "Not just your friend, but you, Ben."

A hiccup shakes your body. You nod. Maybe Barney had started it, but you'd certainly grown fond of Gordon and the others.

Maybe even fallen in love. Or just caught a crush.

Forzen sighs, slumping and resting his head against yours. "I didn't know another way. I mean, you kinda- You kinda fucked it by picking that model."

You can't answer, but you know he's right. "I just- I panicked. I found a flag that wasn't being used yet, so I-"

Something is changing in Forzen's voice. You hear it begin to shake. "I was scared you'd- It's not the first time we've gotten stuck, I mean- Our little brothers went missing. Got stuck in worlds they weren't meant to be in. Couldn't come home."

You know that. You've lost so many people to the ways of the world. Crossing realities and trying things made for mortal folk and not for you. There had been fairytales of monsters and beasts becoming trapped in the short circle of a human's lifetime, and you had been told these by your bretheren who had gotten caught in that circle.

The fear Forzen feels is understandable. You just wish you didn't make him feel it in the first place.

It takes time for you both to calm down. Forzen doesn't cry but he gets close, and you've already started crying so that takes time to work through. But you both cope, becoming settled enough to try and have a conversation.

"He's not dead," Forzen says quietly, taking your hands and holding them gently. "He's hurting, but not dead."

You're so relieved to hear that you almost start crying again. Forzen notices. "But your flag's taken now. You're the villain. The end boss. If Gordon defeats you, then you'll never be needed again. You'll be free, and you can break out and come home."

Even from the computer, you ask. You don't know what that has to do with anything. Even still, Forzen nods. He knows a way out. He can take you there.

"We're the villain," you say. There's a look in Forzen's eyes that tells you what you need to know. You understand him. You don't understand him.

You hide your interpretation so deep that it can't be found.

You compose yourself. You're ready to play the role.

Forzen stands. "See you on the other side."

"You not gonna join me? Lame." You crack a smile. Even though you're your own partner in crime, you wouldn't mind one more.

"Hang out with my brother? Kinda cringe," he answers. You raise an eyebrow, not entirely understanding. "I'll have to teach you about the internet later."

You simply shrug and turn sharp on your heel, watching as the world comes to life around you.

-

You're aware that there are things you have to do now. Horrible things that have to happen, and so they will be brought about by your hands.

But you are not alone. You have a companion. Despite the fact it's You, it's not just You, and even though they are reluctant, in shock, unsure, they are complying.

And if you're stuck like this, playing a role you hate, in order to save the ones you love, and yourself.

Well damn, you're going to have as much fun as you can.

~~

You find a guard standing in a concrete room, idly looking after wooden boxes full of supplies that are now as useless as the guards themselves. He looks bored, and so you try to spice things up.

"Trust fall?" you suggest, pointing to a tall box. The guard shrugs and you take that as a yes. Clambering up there, you barely manage to take your post as the wall far above you explodes, a laser piercing through for a moment. You can hear Gordon's victorious whoops, along with the rest of the Science Team.

You feel uneasy, bitter, but you clasp your flag and think hard. It's all going to be worth it.

~~

Your trust fall does not work. You are not caught and you hit the ground hard. It's only minorly painful, far less than dying, but it's also annoying.

You decide you're tired of feeling pain from that experience, so you simply stop being hurt.

(This decision does not stop the emotional pain still brewing in your chest.)

Gordon is above you, and Coomer is watching you curiously as the other two slowly climb down the pipes. Bubby criticizes the guard's catching skills and with good reason. The man didn't even hold out his arms for you.

Rude.

Gordon warns them all to be ready, and you barely manage to haul yourself to your feet when you're mowed down in a spray of fire, three high-powered guns rattling off bullets into you faster than you can see.

You take a bullet to the face (your health counter drops to zero) and you fly backwards, hitting the wall and blacking out. You're dead, but this is as temporary as all your other deaths. The void welcomes you, not the one from before during the ambush, but the one you like, and you take that chance to recover.

You need to make a plan if you're going to be the villain. Gordon may hate you, which is what you need to happen, but not what you want, so far from what you want, but you need to keep him hating you.

There's no room for pity or forgiveness.

(You want to beg him for forgiveness.)

(You want to share a beer.)

(You want to burn your flag.)

If he hates you enough, then everything will be fine. It'll loop around, surely.

Surely.

(No.)

(It won't.)

~~

Barney and Benry and You stand in the void. There's a tension, but one brought by unease more than malicious ideas between you all.

Barney wrings his hands, still struggling to process what's happening. "We gotta- There's gotta be a plan for this. You made this happen, so there's gotta be a plan."

"M'just doin' my best."

"You ain't got a plan?" Barney asks. Benry shakes his head. You do the same.

He sighs, and you take the chance to speak. "We need our passport."

Benry looks at you. Barney does too. Then they look to each other.

It's Benry who speaks first. "Passports'll help."

"Passports can't fix everything," Barney tries to argue, only to be cut off by both yourself and Benry.

"Yes they can."

~~

Gordon and Bubby's voices come down the hall to you. You simply watch the guard you've found, trying to work out exactly what makes him tick. He has his own flags, and you're trying to work out which ones they are when Gordon approaches.

"Hey. Please... please don't answer me."

You're in an accommodating mood, so you indulge him. No answers. Instead you turn to look at him, trying not to feel concerned for the worried trail of 'no' that comes from his mouth.

You can smell something though, so you figure you'll at least warn them. "Someone straight took a dump..."

Bubby's voice is loud and full of warning. "Watch out Gordon, it's Benry!"

Immediately the guard across from you is gunned down, and you're glad they don't have any form of pain sensing because the gun Bubby shot them with is radioactive and more than certain to cause some kind of painful mutation.

You barely finish "In the last room" as the guard dies, looking at him mournfully. Still, no song rises in your lungs, no taste of mint in your throat. There's no feelings anymore, and you're not sure if your flag has stolen them from you, or your reluctant acceptance of what the world is, and what must be done.

Coomer lands some good hits on you that you somehow can't ignore the pain of, even when you decide you'd like to not be hit or feel it. He's powerful, and maybe it's because he knows the same secrets as you that he can pierce through your shields and leave a few bruises.

"We can't kill him," Gordon mutters to himself, full of bewilderment and exhaustion as he laments. "Why won't you die?"

"Gordon, he's right here on the floor," Coomer says, clearly confused. Maybe going out of bounds did something to his code, or maybe it made it worse.

Or he's always been this way, and your head is so scrambled that you just can't tell anymore.

For a moment you miss Kleiner and Eli and your Gordon. You miss the normalcy they radiate. You want to tell bad jokes about thinking kids are little gremlins and go to the local bar and ride a dirt bike along the mesas outside the work complex.

(You'll get to do those things again. You know this.)

(But not in the way you expect.)

But then that longing fades, crushed under the presence of homesickness and commitment to the plan, and you realize some words spoken to you from you now hold a weight.

He's influential. If he doesn't leave, there'll be no Barney left.

You're already losing that hazy definition of Barney, like it's drowning in a shadow. Overwhelmed. Consumed.

You begin to worry.

And then you don't.

~~

Worry abates, replaced with a primal need to check for permission. For qualification. For clearance.

"Hey um..." You begin slowly and you already know Gordon will not like the words that follow. "You got one of these?"

You fumble in your back pocket for a moment, looking for the small square of plastic but you find it, brandishing what you keep asking for; a Passport.

Something is wrong with it (and horribly right) as your name stretches across the paper and into open space, written in clear and crisp writing goes the words 'BENRY BENRY BENRY BENRY BENRY BE'.

(Your true name doesn't have any kind of spaces, but perhaps its your companions naming conventions coming through.)

Sure enough, the others all brandish their own. Bubby, Dr Coomer. PhD, Tommy Coolatta. All three of them hold their passports alongside yours while Gordon splutters and trips over himself, reading them all in disbelief. He never believed you needed a Passport.

Dumbass.

He takes a moment to laugh about Tommy's name, to which Tommy explains that he chose it as an orphan. You don't know what an orphan is, but you know it's sad that he had to choose his own last name.

Gordon begins to explain that he doesn't have a passport, a fact you know but could bear retelling. But that's when you notice it, the wound on his arm. A whole hand, gone, just like that.

(You did this.)

(Your brother arranged it but you did it.)

(He's not your brother.)

An excitement overtakes you as variables change and your flag flutters in a breeze with no origin. "Oh hey, yo! What hap-" You step forward, interested in some morbid way that disgusts and intrigues you. "Oh man, look, you fucked up."

Internally you realize this man fucked up by meeting you, and by choosing to acknowledge you. Surely if Gordon, the player, whoever the higher power is, wanted you gone they would have made it so.

(Maybe you could have left before shit hit the fan.)

(Verify the cache and you could be free.)

"Shut-" Anger brews, not that gentle anger that comes in banter, or that slightly warm one that Gordon has when he's irritated, or that sharp anger when you've crossed the line previously.

This is white hot, seething, and although he doesn't scream at you, it'd hurt less if he did. "Shut- Shut up!"

And you can't help but make it banter, despite how you're clawing at yourself, begging, pleading. This is your role to play and you'll do it, even if you're kicking and screaming the whole way there. "What'd you do, write your name too many times on the blackboard, Idiot?"

Gordon can't even fight back. The blood loss is too much. He mumbles and rambles, tilting on his feet. "You're gonna- You're gonna kill me. You're gonna kill me, talk- I can't stand up straight."

Concern spreads on everyone's face but yours despite how you try and curl your lips into a frown. "Hey, g-" Gordon's words dip and sway with his body, "I'm sway- v- I'm swayin'! We gotta get to that cybernetics lab fast."

The lab isn't for another few hours. You wish it was sooner.

(For his sake.)

If only so you didn't have to terrorize him.

But it's your job. It's a promotion.

You were a Black Mesa Security Guard.

Now you're a fucking menace.

"Calm down man, jeez."

You try hard not to revel in Gordon's defeat, or in Coomer's warning of death and delirium.

You fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of posting, I have finished writing this fic. It's long. I'm sorry about that.
> 
> I hope that it doesn't disappoint, but I do apologize anyway.


	29. It's Just Some Console Abuse

You brandish your passport in some attempt to brag to Gordon. He's unimpressed. You knew he would be, but you like being a pest. "Put that shit away. I don't give a shit."

He begins to walk past you and you join him, pace even as you hold your passport. "You have nothing to offer me," he says to you. "Except dying. You could die! You could die, man."

You'll die when you're good and ready. Gordon can wait.

Impatience will get you nowhere.

~

A scientist opens the doors outside for you, bringing warnings of the airstrikes outside. You're sure you'll be fine, and the Science Team are all tough enough. Maybe Coomer might punch a tank into oblivion. You'd like to see that.

But as you all approach the doors to the exit, the world slows, turns an icy blue that makes the hairs on your arms stand up beneath your shirt, somehow more chilling than the void ever was.

The void is like a furnace if this is what cold can be.

A man speaks with a refined tone. You watch, eyes trained on Gordon, body incapable of moving, as the man approaches the Scientist. You want so desperately to say something but you cannot. Instead, you stand there and listen as the truth of the matter unravels before you.

You wonder who this man is. You've seen him before, while patrolling the halls. You've also seen him standing in the background of meetings, waiting patiently, observing. You have no idea who he is.

His name is G-Man. monster_gman, if you're being specific.

It unsettles you as you think of the world as a concept again but that's swept away by the words that come from his mouth.

G-Man talks of a 'Progeny'. You make the connection immediately. There's a flag you never thought to look at, but as you force your eyes to slide past Gordon and your new formal companion, you look at Tommy and see a tiny flag, almost invisible.

'Son', it reads. 

Huh, you think, the reality of it all only coming to you as the world becomes scorching hot again, and then levelling out. 

Tommy Coolatta is the son of a God who, in this facility, is far more powerful than you could ever be.

~~

Gordon blinks owlishly. It seems he's not affected by the temperature shift, which you're grateful for. It's uncomfortable, and you don't want that for him.

(He will be uncomfortable when he fights you.)

Your thoughts are becoming more sinister despite your intentions. You try and ignore that as you investigate where the G-Man was standing, looking for anything he might have dropped, a sign of something you can use to change things.

There's nothing.

"Why are you just standing there?" Bubby asks. Whatever happened, it seems only you and Gordon were privy to it.

(He modified the Console.)

(What is the Console? It hasn't been explained.)

"I know it's dangerous ahead-" Coomer begins to warn but you're not thinking about that. Instead you're charting the distance to the teleporter, to Xen.

You don't even remember if you've talked about Xen to anyone. Not properly.

Your mouth moves on its own. "What's wrong with you man?"

You know exactly what's wrong.

Gordon tells you to die. Coomer attempts to act upon those words, punching you solidly while Bubby simply questions things.

Coomer's fists are starting to hurt, so you quickly jog away, listening to Gordon's regretful words. "We can't kill 'im."

They will kill you in time.

Part of you.

One of you.

...Wait. What do you mean one? Why only one?

...

You bite your tongue and distract yourself with the copper taste.

~~

Coomer's aggression times out and you rejoin the group.

You come back to Bubby shooting a scientist in the face.

At least they can't really feel it.

...

Think of copper. Think of pigeons.

Think of anything else.

~~

The Revolving Door may be more of a threat than you ever will.

This was not meant for so many people.

Honestly, you're glad they all just break the glass.

You always thought those doors were obnoxious anyway.

~~

You make it out the facility doors and are immediately caught by a stray bullet. Despite your helmet, the shot cuts right through and ends your life.

You go back to the void and continue to plot for your return.

~~

You manifest atop Coomer's head. It's not the worst thing you've sat on. The chairs in the cafeteria are awful.

...You take a few seconds to remember cafeterias. There's a chance you'll never eat in one again.

Or that you ever did, but you're ignoring that. What you wouldn't give for some meat slop and a milk box that's on the cusp of going rancid...

You never realize how good you had it before, even if it wasn't all that good to start with, until you're presented with something so much worse.

~~

The doors open to a battlefield and Gordon steps back as your troupe marches onwards, guns a-blazing as you mow down mindless boot boys. At least Forzen has enough sense to not be here. Dealing with him right now would just be trouble for all of you.

You don't know if you could shoot him if asked.

Luckily you never really seem to be in a room together. Maybe he's planned it that way, if only so you don't have to choose a side. You're already torn enough as it is.

Gordon calls out the words "Neo-Science Team!" and you feel apart of it. His voice is confident as "Guns Ho!" follows. You're being included in this. He's slowly, somehow, accepting your presence.

This is bad this is bad this is bad this is bad this is-

(You're panicking.)

You're meant to be the villain, so isn't this betrayal going to get so much worse?

But you're in this together. You and You and You. Benry and Barney and the mess you've made together.

You're all going to do it, and you're all going to get through this. Whatever pain comes your way, you know it's worth it for a happy ending for you all.

(...All.)

(There is no all.)

You almost question that, almost, but an exploding barrel distracts you and the thought gets buried to a place you can't find it without far too much free time.

"Fuck the troops!" Gordon shouts.

You think an apology to your brother as you find yourself agreeing.

~~

Airstrikes rain down from above, dangerous and explosive. You wonder if those pilots have their passports. The others are more occupied with making a massacre. It's deafening, and as Gordon sprints across the bridge, avoiding gunfire, he bangs on the Secure Access door, begging them to open it.

The door refuses to yield, so you decide to help. Being the villain gives you perks, and being BENRYBENRYBENRYBENRYBENRY-

Well that gives you even more.

This is how you come into ownership of the Gluon Gun, a weapon that Gordon will find eventually. You're surprised it exists. You've never even heard Black Mesa was manufacturing experimental weapons like this. It looks like nothing more than a glorified vacuum cleaner.

You have no idea what you're holding.

You're aware it's a long range weapon with a magazine size of 100, which deals 14 damage per bullet and fires at 600 rounds a minute.

...You're going to ignore this information. It's not for you to know. It's the other you's problem now.

But even your gun holds no sway over the doors. It seems the world does not want you to move along this path. Even Gordon doesn't seem to understand what you're doing, but maybe it's because he can't see the beam. So many colours spill out on your end, but Gordon simply assumes you're sucking the door towards you with no success.

Maybe it's something that only computers can see.

(Only the fake.)

Or it's because you have special eyes.

That option makes you less nauseous than facing your own unreality.

~~

Your gun doesn't work. You need a new option. Coomer is wielding a rocket launcher, which you're impressed he can handle, while Tommy and Bubby continue the assalt with rifles and explosives. Gordon simply cheers them on, giving encouragement to them.

You, on the other hand, withdraw your passport and begin to question the pilot and by extension, the helicopter.

The absolute confusion in Gordon's voice gives you life. You can't help but smile as you hold your certification aloft, asking the pilot to stop.

You exert your influence, as a Securty Guard but also a Villain. You have the authority here and they Will respect it.

Even as rockets and bullets continue to assault the vehicle you remain persistent. You can see the health bar refusing to budge, and you focus harder, summing up the energy you'll need for this to take effect.

"Stop," you demand. "Please come down right now."

It doesn't yield, but you can see it growing weaker. As another rocket comes to hit the helicopter, you pour all your feelings into one thought.

"Die."

The helicopter explodes and crashes into the mesa wall before tumbling into the dam.

You're relieved, more than you can say, feeling the tension drain away as you speak, maybe more to yourself and the code, than to the AI itself. "Thank you very much."

The others let off their own cheers of victory, Coomer being the most prominent with his cry. "Don't fuck with the Science Team!"

(You are not going to heed those words when the time comes.)

~~

There's a drop to the side of the dam. A ravine with no water some fifty feet down, possibly more. None of you could survive that fall. Even you would take a temporary excursion to the void if you'd tried to brave that impact.

"Now Gordon, it doesn't look too-" You jump up onto the railing alongside Doctor Coomer, except he keeps going, words trailing as he falls down, body going limp about halfway and hitting the concrete wall before slamming into the ground.

There should be blood. There should be blood and brains and decay and all the signs of a violent impact. You did that experiment as a kid where you dropped eggs from a height and tried to cushion the fall. You're aware of gravity and velocity and how stopping suddenly is bad for you.

But not a single mark is made on either impact. No signs that Coomer was ever there.

Your insides twist and then settle. You know who's to blame for each one.

All of you stare down in silence, in mourning, although you all know that Coomer will come back. He always does, as do the rest of you. There is nothing here that can stop you from defying death.

"Oh bummer," you manage, and you think that's the most mundane answer you can give. You aren't even able to muster surprise. Just resigned acceptance. Everyone pulls away, ready to inspect the less lethal option. Then-

"Maybe you should do that."

The words burn on your tongue. Gordon is ignoring you, busy trying to listen to Coomer (who has reappeared) and Bubby's advice, which is to dive into the filthy water and get to the tower standing in the middle of it, presumably to control the dam.

You manage to change your thoughts to something more positive. "You wanna jump in? Go 'head, please."

There's a splash as Gordon hits the water and you're relieved.

~~

You watch Gordon run from a shark in the water and think fondly of before, in the Third Act.

...Third Act?

This isn't a show. It might be a- A game but...

The thought is wiped from your head at rocket speed as you think of mutated pigeons and rockets and playing soccer and wow what are the names of soccer players let's make some up.

Your head is loud and filled with intrusive thoughts, and you try to think past it. Some ideas are best left unexplored.

Instead you think about the shark and the fact Black Mesa probably shouldn't have so many of them. Irresponisble, honestly.

At least that's something you don't have to argue with yourself about.

~~

The water is gross, so you don't swim across and instead float. It's a bit disorienting. At least when you clipped through walls, you were still on the same horizontal plane. Now you're moving in multiple ways, purely by will. If you lose focus, you'll probably fall, so you try hard to not think about gravity or downward force, and instead let the fact that you're not observing a passportless man drive you across the gap.

You touch down in the doorway just as Gordon fiddles with the turbine controls. They flick on, and he turns around to face you, displeased at your sudden appearance. You make it no better by brandishing your passport, blocking him from leaving.

"What?" he asks you with increasing frustration as you smile at him.

"Cool, right?" you say, turning to show Coomer. "I love it!"

"I hate it," Gordon answers, which is exactly what you'd expect from someone who doesn't have a passport. "It looks- looks a bit shit!"

Now that twists hard in your chest. Gordon is using your words, but it's not your Gordon. The wrong person using the right words.

"It's pretty cool, Gordon," Coomer says, giving you time to think, to process, to swallow feelings and drown them.

"Yeah I think it's cool. Y'know what's not cool?"

You cut Gordon off, feeling bitterness rise. A bitterness that is not yours, but is building off your feelings, stealing that whirlpool that spins in your core, all that grief and anger and regret and guilt, and turning it into venom that you spit as the Villain. "You- You're a little clumsy boy aren't you? Lost your lil hand there didja?"

Gordon laughs, if only at the audacity of you. You know you're saying these things because he can't hurt you, not physically. You hope you'll bite your tongue when retalliation is imminent.

"If I had a knife, I would gut you." Whimpered words with anger and hate that's real and there and directed at You.

Not a half of you. But all of you.

Gordon hates you.

He hates that you lured him into that trap.

He hates that you let him do it.

He hates that you didn't stop him.

He hates Barney Calhoun, hidden away, and BENRYBENRYBENRYBENRY- on full display, and the combination you've made which flickers like a light, becoming more and less of itself.

But then his anger fades into disappointment. "But I can't. Cause you're... inexplicably immortal."

"You mean like one of these?" Bubby comes in, blessed Bubby, derailing the conversation with a knife in hand. You've never been so glad to see a blade.

Your knees are shaking, so you sit on the edge while Gordon and Bubby talk about knives and Gabe Newell, and Coomer chimes in with knowledge that turns into a deep dread that resonates in your rigging because it reminds you that you're not real and Gabe Newell helped make you into this not real and-

Your thoughts are redirected gently and you're almost annoyed that you can do this so easily. When you're alone, you know you'll be missing that.

So you relax and wait as Gordon dives into the water below to open the vents that block this side of the dam off from the other, thinking of Heavenly Sword and what a phone might be like in 2020.

Such a strange year to pick...

~~

The shark is huge and threatening. You can see Gordon and Bubby slip through the dam and out to the other side, but the shark seems keen on following. You're not sure if it can get through, but Black Mesa will have its way, and if that shark wants to be on the other side then it is Going To Get There.

Coomer and Tommy are busy trying to get to the pipes, and so you take it upon yourself to sing a song. It doesn't struggle as you pierce the water, although the taste of dirt and blood and other horrible things mixes with peppermint and lemon and sunshine and autumn in a way you can't quite explain. Your song changes in pitch ever so slightly, stopping and starting as you wrap around the beast, slowing it until it cannot move, and then letting your melodies intents become malicious, slowing not only its motion, but its organs, until it simply ceases to breathe and sinks to the bottom of the dam.

It takes time to kill the beast. By the time you're done, the others have already left, making it into another set of pipes. The drainage pipes are a bit of a mess, one you simply choose to navigate by clipping through walls until you find a pipe ahead of the group. At least they can't leave you behind that way.

You jog around the corner, intent of closing the gap between you all when you almost run into Gordon.

"Oh," he breathes. "You gave me a heart attack."

You hope not.

~~

You both continue down the pipe, steps echoing on the concrete. You turn to look at him from time to time, making sure he hasn't died from infection in the arm or anything else that's plaguing him. You're almost certain he should have some kind of bandage on the wound.

"You don't have to look at me," Gordon grumbles as he approaches you, gaze narrowed behind dirty glasses.

You sing calming blue to him. Ocean salt and blueberries and toilet water on the tongue as you do. Gordon drinks them up, albeit reluctantly.

"Okay man, I ate your balls, now what?" he asks, clearly unpleased.

Bubby chimes in, outraged. "Excuse me?"

"In public, Gordon?!" Coomer adds, clearly as appalled.

You can't help but smirk. It's nice to get Gordon in some non life-threatening trouble.

~~

During a conversation about Black Mesa's funding source (which you know because you read some files you Were Not Meant To See), you hear the roar of a helicopter above. It reminds you all that you have work to do here.

But on the way to the helicopter, and most likely some more boot boys, you all take a pitstop at a cactus. Gordon is excited for the cactus, wanting to drink its juice. Coomer is excited for a reason to talk about cacti.

Bubby's just happy to steal everything the military man was holding.

Your corner is a perfect place to take a break. The apache doesn't see you, and that means Coomer can rattle off his explanation of a cactus without any interruptions. It's almost relaxing, if you bother to ignore the drone of the helicopter.

Gordon is so desperate for cactus milk but he simply sits and listens. How polite.

You simply snap some photos to remember this moment by, if only so you can all laugh later and go 'remember when Gordon begged us for cactus milk but we talked about Wikipedia articles for cacti? How funny was that?!'.

Wikipedia hour is cut short as the cactus explodes, robbing Gordon of his moment. He's upset, obviously, but you don't really care, seeing as he comes up and starts to interrogate you. "Hey, where were you? Up on the cliff?"

"Huh?" You avoid looking at him. "None of your business."

Gordon's irritation doesn't boil over, but it certainly rises. "Last time you told me that, you had me jumped by a bunch of soldiers, that sliced my arm off with a combat knife."

Your Villain flag flies against your wishes. "That's no big deal, I think you should calm down."

...Wrong choice of words, but you do want Gordon to be calmer. If he starts to panic too much, he might pass out.

He snaps his jaw shut and bares his teeth as he continues moving.

~~

Coomer turns his arm into an RPG launcher and you know fear for a moment. You're glad he hasn't turned that on you.

One rocket is fired at the helicopter and you all rush out onto the sand, desperate to find somewhere to go.

A song of blue and green, tasting of seaweed and denim, comes from your mouth as the others take care of a few stray soldiers. Tommy translates for you.

"Blue to green means it's time to be mean."

Gordon laughs, but you hope these colours won't be turned on him.

~~

There are aliens and mines ahead, discovered by both a headcrab launching at Bubby, but a comical sign with the word 'Mines' written on it, accompanied by a skull and crossbones. Why Black Mesa has a sign like that you have no idea, or if the military put it there, you also don't know.

"Hey Benry," Gordon begins and you're already feeling uneasy. "Do us a solid with your immortal body and clear the mines. Run ahead!"

You scowl. Your body may be immortal, and you may keep coming back, but that doesn't mean you don't feel pain. "I don't feel like- Uhhhh, no, maybe not. I don't feel like it right now."

Exasperation laces Gordon's voice. "Run like a- Run like a boy at the carnival!"

You're about to argue back when Coomer chimes in. "Did you say carnival?"

Oh no.

You'd like to warn him, you really do, but he's gone before you can muster the words, fighting against the part of you that wants to be bad and let your companions die and never reach Xen.

Because that's where you're going. You realized this when you took your flag. When you booted the game. When you-

You're going to stop right there. You'll take it all as it comes. One step at a time. No point panicking now. Remember, you're not alone.

That thought calms you immediately. You have support.

You have yourself.

So you think about that while Coomer whoops and cheers about a carnival, leaping across the minefield gleefully while you and the others trail behind, keeping an eye out for explosions.

~~

You crush cockroaches underfoot as you pass through the drainage pipe to outside the facility. It's less emotionally traumatizing than killing pigeons, which at some point had been an animal you liked, until you saw them so horribly mutated that you decided you no longer liked them.

But they're getting stuck to the bottom of your shoes, so that sucks.

Still, you crush them and keep going, letting mild disgust overwrite your nervous anticipation of the future.


	30. It's Just Rewriting Reality

A jet flies by just as Gordon breaches the entrance of the pipe. Sitting on a wing is a skeleton, and as it looks towards the pipe, it sees you just behind Gordon.

Something stirs in your chest.

A value is changed.

A new flag is pitched, alongside your new role as Villain.

This skeleton is your friend now. All the skeletons are.

An aid to the Villain, a means to an end. They will help you Kill Gordon Freeman.

...Wait, that's what you're meant to do? You thought you were meant to just be bad? You're going to kill Gordon? Hang on. Hang the fuck on, you're-

Your mouth fills with a copper song and crimson blood as you derail your thoughts hard.

You refuse to kill Gordon Freeman, or even make a serious attempt.

You've hurt him enough. You won't kill him.

This you assure yourself from all sides.

~~

You make an observation. There's a river running at the bottom of the cliff. None of you have had anything to drink besides soda for days. Has it been days? It feels so much longer.

"There's water down there," you say with the intention of others hearing it. Gordon at least pays attention. Enough that he can question you anyway.

"What?"

"There's water down there," you repeat. He must be scared of heights or something, considering he hasn't mentioned it. 

Slowly Gordon edges closer, still shimmying along the narrow cliff face. "Yeah?"

Coomer comments that he's thirsty and you share the feeling.

That is until you decide you're no longer thirsty.

At which point you're not.

Convenient.

"Go for a- Go for a lil dip?" is the intrusive thought that comes out of your mouth. You have no idea where it comes from. Between You and Benry and Barney and the Villain Flag, there's so much going on that you can't source half the things you're saying.

"No," Gordon answers, almost confused. 

You refuse to relent. "Take a lil swim?"

"How 'bout you do?" comes the counter-offer. It's quite the fall, and you get horrible vertigo when you drop down, so you're not keen on it. "You've- I'd like to see you do that. Maybe I'll go if you go first."

You're not that dumb. You know he won't commit. You did enough of that as a kid, standing at the edge of the pool with your friends. Or were you standing on the edge of a lava pit with your siblings. So hard to tell these days.

Gordon begins to babble incomprehensibly, gesturing to you and the cliff, then to himself and the cliff. He's absolutely losing it, 'it' being the blood in his body, but also his mind. That's on the way out too.

"What? No." You answer.

You follow as Gordon keeps moving, laughing softly. "Why don't you want to go? But you want me to go? Tell me that, riddle me that. Riddle me that."

(You don't know what a riddle is.)

"But that's stupid, why would I do that?"

"Why would I do that if it's stupid?"

Bubby, seemingly tired of your bullshit, interrupts. "Gordon, this is a massive cliff! Nobody would ever jump off of this!"

Coomer decides to prove you all wrong by leaping off, and you wonder if the man ever wanted to be a skydiver.

He reappears again, as Coomer always does, RPG in hand as he takes care of the boot boys. Your mind is full of so much information, contradictory and true, that you forget if you've had this thought, so you choose to have it again.

You wonder if Coomer's knowledge of the world being false is what permits him to return as often as he does.

Ultimately it has no bearing on you, but knowing the answer to that might help you negotiate your fate and your role. Bringing up such a thing to Coomer of all people seems improbable, but you still wish you could entertain the idea.

You do not entertain it for long as you follow along, keen to get off of this cliff.

~~

A roar fills the air, tremendous and deafening. It shakes the mountain you stand on, the thrum resonating in your chest. Were you more unsteady on your feet, you might even fall down.

You can barely hear Gordon over it as you step out from the little bunker you'd all taken a moment to breathe in. Outside is a helicopter. And another. And another. Hundreds of them, overlapping, intersecting, twisting together in a way they never should. If you'd ever had doubt of this world being fake, nothing but numbers, then you've found the proof you needed to smash that doubt into pieces.

A mess of polygons, the Helicopter Heap as your mind supplies, spins out of control. It rotates in place, refusing to move across the sky. Coomer of course unloads a rocket into it, followed by another. There's certainly damage, you can see that.

But it refuses to yield. Like a hydra, it insists on coming back. Even as Coomer, Bubby, and Tommy unload onto it, Gordon standing by weaponless, you know this is futile.

You close your eyes and the world becomes a background hum. You stand in darkness, quietly watching as Benry approaches Barney, obviously hesitant but also filled with a desperate energy that almost sparks off him like lightning.

"Y'gotta, gotta let me change things," he says, and you understand but don't. Comprised of two sides of the coin, you can only wait and watch as things unfold, knowing all but none until both parties know.

Barney wrings his hands. "I dunno what yer gonna do, but it must be somethin' if you're asking."

Benry nods. You understand. Still, it's explained to Barney, who is not privy to the inner machinations of Benry's mind. "M'gon move a flag. Change numbers. Peel back the curtain. The stage play is coming apart and I gotta be the understudy."

For a moment Barney stares, and then he nods. His jaw is set as he does, understanding that despite the obscure words, what's happening now is serious. "Take the wheel, friend."

The nod is returned, confident.

You open your eyes and the world changes.

~~

Everything seems to be moving slowly. The attack on the Helicoper Heap has been abandoned, and you watch as the Science Team scramble for a ladder, desperate to haul themselves out of the cacophony.

But where you would see people, bodies of flesh and blood, you see models, wireframe and skeletal. Not like the skeletons that follow you but more bare. The ground beneath you becomes transparent, and the sky feels too close, like it's boxing you in.

The swirling mass of helicopters is a similar wireframe, all intersecting and inheriting the wrong properties. You see the attached scripts, the flags, the enemy behaviour.

Reaching out into it is hard. You've never changed the properties of something other than yourself. The void is a space where anything happens, and you know your own limits for clipping, but this is something else entirely, something that resists as you try and untangle it like a ball of wool.

The Science Team yell their obscenities at the heap and you focus your intentions, plucking the spawn(); command out of the script and scattering it to the wind. The Helicopter Heap will not regenerate now.

All that's left is removing those that are there.

And you do. You simply wave a hand across them, closing one eye as you do. You focus hard, thinking of explosions and crashing and rotors stopping. Anything and everything that can stop a helicopter, you imagine.

When you fail to think of something regular, you imagine something new.

And with a deafening silence, the last helicopter ceases to be and you let out a breath, exhausted. Slowly the world still turns and you rejoice in that. Despite the claustrophobia of the sky and the almost invisible ground underfoot, you feel calm, okay, alive.

A shaky breath and a smile reminds you that it's going to be fine. You'll get through this together. You'll go to Xen and you'll find a way to become irrelevant and then everyone can go home happily and it'll be great.

(It's not as simple as that.)

That's a thought for the future though. Now, well all you care to think about is trying to climb that ladder the others already used, and maybe finding something to drink.

~~

Gordon thinks that God took the helicopters away.

You are not God.

Bubby thinks that if there were a God, they did not plan for the Helicopter Heap.

You know that they didn't.

You don't know what a God could be in this world, but you think you could be close to understanding them.


	31. It's Just The State of Things

You may have all escaped the Helicopter Heap, but you have not escaped without repercussions.

As Coomer explains the source of it, theorizing that it was a military weapon (and omitting the fact it was against the laws of reality), you focus on trying to calm down.

The world is still a mess of wireframe mesh and texture packs to you.

You close your eyes and breathe out, ground yourself.

You are-  
Your name is unknown, but you are a Black Mesa Security Guard right now, and you are traversing Black Mesa, and you want to see the world as you know it.

Slowly, your eyes open and it's as if nothing ever happened, flesh and bone and fabric all greeting you, as if you'd never seen behind the curtain.

It's a minor comfort and you cling to it

~~

There is a pipe leading from the side of the cliff to a small moat, flanked on both sides by platforms currently host to marines.

None of you think about that. Especially you as you sit down in the cool water. It washes over you, soaking into your clothes and clinging to your neck.

You don't mind the feeling of wet clothes. You're used to it. Work sometimes makes you sweat enough to turn your dress shirt into a second skin, and the Black Mesa Pool had a regulation of making you train with all your gear on.

So you don't mind.

But it's also strange. Your clothes stick to you and move only when you pull it away, or when you stretch enough. It's not entirely new, you've gone swimming several times during your adventure, but that'd been full-body immersion.

Sitting here like this just feels weird. You're not sure which part of you thinks it's weird. You just think it does.

Gordon stares at you, silently. It makes you just a slight bit uncomfortable and you fumble around. Your hand touches a soda can, still sealed, and you toss it over to him. He has to be thirsty, right?

"Don't throw cans at me," he grumbles in response.

Well, there goes you attempting to be kind. And after you went and removed the Helicopter Heap too. "Drink up, BUDDY."

You place emphasis on the last word, both as sarcasm but also some deep-seated want for Gordon to accept your friendship. You like him. All of you likes him. Why can't he just like you back?

Is he still angry about the hand?

(Yes. That's a big problem.)

Surely he can't be.

...

You stop to think about whether humans can be like starfish or lizards.

Can they grow back limbs?

~~

Gordon apparently drank some cactus. That's why he declines your cans. You know he's lying to you, but Gordon's always been stubborn. If he doesn't want to share a soda with you, then he's not going to.

The stubbornness makes you angry, and that anger starts your flag again, and your stomach sinks as you try to reign in words, calculated in their cruelness.

"Hey, what happened to your arm?"

Gordon looks at his stump, and then to you, and you know you're absolutely dancing on the line. You are fighting against yourself when it comes to befriending Gordon and you are losing. "I wanna kill you," comes his delirious sing-song response. "I wanna make you dead."

You don't care. "Yeah. Okay. That's fine. Yeah, looks like you're a bit of a- looks like you fucked up there, huh?" A smug smile sits on your lips and you are trying very hard to reign it into a neutral expression, if only because you know a frown is out of the question.

But this is like pushing a boulder up a vertical incline. It is not going to work.

"I hate you," Gordon says and you pretend it doesn't hurt.

"What's wrong?" You try for banter. Banter can fix it, surely. You can take the edge off these words if you just try and-

"I hate you with my life!"

The mention of life inspires Coomer. "I could drink Soda forever!"

But neither of you are listening. "Benry. Benry. What can I do to-"

You don't know why you did that.

You just-

You blow him a kiss.

Gordon stops in his tracks. "Did you just try to kiss me?"

Panic brews inside you. Yes. Yes you've always thought about kissing Gordon, back in the early days when you first shared a beer and he draped himself over you, when you both sat out under the stars, when you both skipped work to play Doom, but this-

You didn't want to right now! Not while you're mildly possessed! Not while you're fighting against killing him! When you- When so much is going wrong and Gordon hates you and in no way will return those feelings.

When you just cut him emotionally, after getting him cut physically.

So you do what you do best, comprised of two minds that are whirring at top speed, creating a cacophony of thoughts and sounds you can't comprehend.

You feign ignorance. "Huh?"

Gordon is just as confused. "What was that noise?"

You almost get away with it. But Bubby. Your dear friend Bubby. They let you down.

"Benry, you'll just have to kiss him after we leave."

God damn it. There goes any chance of pretending you didn't just kiss Gordon.

"You good man?" you ask, hoping to try and sweep it under the metaphorical carpet.

"Save the- Save the lovin for later," Gordon slurs exhaustedly, holding a hand up to you placatingly. Wow. Maybe he doesn't hate you as much now you've made a confession of love. Or kiss. There's kisses without love.

Coomer seems to bandwagon. "You'll just have to kiss Doctor Freeman after the test." Gordon laughs, which brightens your spirits. He suggest you all take it easy, although Bubby clarifies that the test has already happened.

He gives you a wink.

Oh _God_ , Bubby is trying to be your wingman.

Coomer blinks. "Oh dear," he says, taking a seat on your head.

You cry out in surprise at the weight.

~~

Gordon hears soldiers. You also hear them, but you also elect to ignore them. You haven't entered their aggro radius (whatever that means) and so you're not fussed. What you are interested in is the fact Tommy seems to think the water makes you stronger. Bubby thinks the water is magnetic too.

You're not really noticing anything beside the way the texture loops-

You blink and you can't see it anymore. The water is unremarkable and without a pattern. It makes you relax.

"This is where they make the Powerade!"

It happens all at once. There's a sweet, sticky smell in the air and as you all bend down to sip at the Not Water, you realize it does in fact taste like Powerade, which is strange because you haven't tasted it before. No aspect of you has ever known what Powerade should and would taste like.

You once described it as 'Bottled Toilet Water' and Gordon had socked you in the shoulder hard enough to leave a mark.

Everyone begins to rave about it. Gordon seems excited, and Coomer explains that all the water, possibly outside of Black Mesa too, is being replaced with Powerade and not being laced with fluoride like everyone else had thought. 

You don't know what a fluoride is.

Bubby thinks Powerade sucks. You might be on the same boat. You're not entirely sure. Maybe ambivalence is the answer here. You don't hate it, but damn are you not a fan. Hopefully there's no song hiding away in your lungs that tastes this bad.

...Toilet water actually tastes worse than this, but you want to stick to your guns.

Gordon begins scooping the Powerade into his mouth and you don't choose to bully him over this. He's barely had anything to eat that isn't soda. You're going to let him have this little victory.

"It's full- It replenishes your electronics," you tell him, feeling confident.

Coomer has many electronics. He says as much. You'd believe him.

Once again Bubby proclaims his hatred of Powerade and you get that, even as the others all slurp and sip. Gordon mentions hunkering down, living in the Powerade lake and honestly? You'd be down for that. 

But you're not. You'd like to go home and no longer be at risk of losing your mind to your polite but still invasive bodysnatcher.

But for now you can wait as the Science Team gets their fill. It's best not to rush.

You'd like to put off the inevitable.

~~

Their sipping does not last forever. Coomer quenches his thirst and helps lead the charge on the boot boys above the river. You join him and the Science Team, mowing through soldiers until there's nothing left. There's a coordinated attack between a tank and a plane, launching oddly placed airstrikes that narrowly avoid you all.

Coomer quickly ends that by punching the top of the tank into smithereens.

You don't stick around to watch though. You've other things to do.

~~

You find a mound of bricks. It's very entertaining to you.

You wonder...  
What does a brick taste like?

You're so violently wrenched from that thought process that you never get to follow through imagining what extraordinary flavours your tongue could behold.

At least Gordon's paying enough attention to you're saying to question you. You'd think he'd be more concerned about the fact Coomer and Bubby admitted to Black Mesa building World War 2 nukes, or that there's a minefield around here, or that a Dactar just attacked.

You still don't know what a Dactar is, even after whispering to Tommy about it.

...But you could know the taste of a brick.

~~

Bricks taste bad.

You feel like you should have known that from the start.

~~

You spot a guard laying in the middle of the yard. He's bleeding out, begging for help. Tommy approaches with you, although he hangs back as you get closer to the guard.

He's probably watching for an ambush. Good. You don't need any more of those.

"What's up man?" you greet casually as you approach the man, listening to him tell you he's dying, but not at all paying attention to it.

He's dying? Well, you can fix that.

Before you know what you're doing, you've unloaded a shotgun shell into his face.

...

Why did you do that?

You genuinely don't know.

~~

There are snipers watching the yard, but the Science Team are armed with a myriad of explosives. You let them handle the snipers while you think about the fact you shot a man.

Mercy killed a man? Was it mercy?

Surely.

But... is there mercy if he was never even real? Do you have empathy for the imaginary?

Barney Calhoun does, but you, and Benry, the two of you aren't sure. You'd like to just blame your flag for making you shoot him but...

You decide it had nothing to do with your flag. The truth in your eyes was that you mercy killed that man, because leaving him like that was just cruel.

(You've been cruel before.)

...Yes. That's what you're gonna believe.

No more questions.

~~

"Mines!"

You excitedly read the sign beside you, ignoring how Tommy steps on one and immediately detonates it. It's fine. He'll walk it off.

"Yeah..." Gordon trails. He must be working out how to steal them.

"Not yours!" you quickly add, as if that'll dissuade him. You doubt it, but it's worth the effort. Bubby comments on Tommy's nonchalance about the explosions and honestly, good for Tommy. The man's too high-strung. He deserves to relax with some explosives going off underfoot.

Past the mines is barbed wire. It's meant to be crawled under, but you can't crawl, no matter how you will your body

They didn't mod in crawling animations, you realize.

So instead you and the others all crouch and try to ignore the pain of the wire. You only get one wire in before just deciding that it's not worth feeling any pain, so you simply skip that step and just crouch through. Everyone else seems to cry out though.

It'd be nice if you could tell them how to just... not feel pain.

But you'd also not like to cause more crises than is already happening.

~~

You make it through the barbed wire and barely take a step forward before Coomer shoots the electricity breaker. It explodes and kills you instantly, body sliding across the rough gravel.

The dark greets you when you wake up and you groan in annoyance. Dying hurts. You forgot to Not Feel Pain when it comes to dying.

You're lying on your side, watching as Benry rubs at his head and Barney tries to get a crick out of his neck.

"That one surprised me," Barney says, sparing you a glance. "You hangin' in there?"

"Eh." You shrug, watching as Benry hits the side of his head. A small military radio tumbles out of his ear, along with three shotgun shells and a health pack.

You feel a lot better now. Weird.

Static rises. You sit up with some effort. "Ready?"

The two of them shrug.

You breathe and taste dusty air.

~~

You come to as Gordon talks about everyone getting in the same hole at once. It's confusing, and perhaps a little unsettling. He has to know that's a sex thing, right?

You shake the thought away, taking in the room. It's filled with boxes, and a stray scientist. It also has some very non-stray scientists in the shape of the Science Team, but there's also-

Skeleton?   
Oh.  
Oh no.

You try desperately to ignore the skeleton, instead greeting the stray scientist with a pleasant "nice to meet'chu".

He doesn't answer, so you try again. "Nice to meet you man."

This time he doesn't answer because the entire room explodes, destroying half the boxes and ending the scientist's life. That one wasn't even you! Your flag didn't even try to do anything.

Gordon laughs, and all you manage is a somewhat apathetic "oh shit."   
You should be used to this by now, honestly. Scientists here just drop like flies.

Speaking of dropping like flies, Gordon begins to ramble, asking for someone to keep an eye on him in case he dies of blood loss or convulses. You know he won't. He's not real, after all.

But the others have to be kept in the illusion, you think to yourself. So you don't mention it and instead let him insist and plead with the rest of the Science Team.

As he starts talking about a defibrillator, which you have never operated, you notice the skeleton. It fills you with a fear and anxiety, even though you know it's aligned with you and means you no harm.

It's a symbol of your fate, of your role, and despite everything, your flag starts to flutter.

"Hello," you greet, holding out your passport. "Got one of these?"

The Skeleton holds a passport out to you. It holds no real credentials, just the name "You" printed in fine black ink.

It makes you pause for only a moment, only because you cannot fight your flag as it goes higher, catching a breeze that has no source and overpowering you and your free will. This Skeleton cannot be you.

You are You. Barney and Benry are You and that cannot be changed. It can't.

(But it's all numbers.)

It has to be more than just numbers, changed with the flick of a wrist.

But still you smile at the Skeleton, You, as you both turn to Gordon, passports outstretched. "Where's yours?" you ask as you tuck the paper in your back pocket, approaching Gordon. The Skeleton follows, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

The Skeleton stands beside you and you pull your passport out again, holding it like a threat. The Science Team are silent, watching, unreacting. You wish they'd say something, stop Gordon as he accepts the chance of death at your hands.

(Not yet but soon.)

Coomer and Bubby blow up some boxes, giving you a moment to breathe. It weakens the influence of your flag and the Skeleton. You feel your muscles relax.

"Do you see that?" Gordon asks the Science Team, pointing at the Skeleton. "Do you see that Skeleton or is it too late for me?" Gordon looks to you, panicked. "He saw it! Benry saw it! Which is giving me fucking... the worst thoughts!"

Your mouth moves on its own. "Yeah, he's all good! It all checks out man. Good trusted member of society."

Lies. All lies. You can't stop the words no matter how hard you try and bite your tongue.

You do not trust the Skeleton at all.

~~

The Science Team go to bed. They flop onto the floor, and as they all prepare to sleep, the Skeleton copies too, flopping down with a clatter of bones.

You stand, a rush of adrenaline in your veins. "You goin' to bed?" Gordon asks, yet you can't comprehend it, approaching him.

The past day rushes back to you all at once, compounding into a single moment that weighs hard on you. You've tried to play it off, bury the guilt, ignore it, mock it, but now it's come to meet you and you are not prepared.

"Hey, where'd your-"

Gordon blinks. "What."

"Why are we here?"

"To sleep?" He seems tired, of you, of everything.

"What happened to your arm?"

Genuine confusion fills your voice. You know what happened and yet.

And yet.

It's like it's suddenly hit you, as the world comes to a close once again.

Gordon Freeman is missing a hand, and you have done this to him.

The world goes black as death swallows you again.


	32. Intermission - A Trilogy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not happy with this chapter, but it is what it is.

Barney wakes up first in the void.   
He is alone, without Barney, without the personality he composes. It is only Barney Calhoun, alone in this space.

He is himself, untainted, free, and his mind has finally got a moment to think, to mull over the events as they've happened. He's as close to safe as he's going to be.

And so Barney Calhoun wails like a babe freshly born.

He feels tired and empty when he's finished, face damp and eyes dry, with no tears left to shed. He'd felt this way before, sure, right after everything happened, after the blood and the screaming and the severing of an arm that was exacted by a friend, but back then he'd had someone else to share his body, compounding and elevating his emotions, making them all the more potent, but also dulling those that didn't serve to further their goals.

Now he could see with eyes unclouded, and with that came anger.

Anger that he'd been so willing to just... go along with it. With Forzen. To trust that there was a plan. A grand plan where Gordon would be okay and they would be Bad without consequence.

What the hell were you thinking, Benry Calhoun.

His anger boils, filling him with a rage. Barney thinks of how he's been tugged along, of how an anger that isn't his (but isn't Benry's) had filled them and how it'd tainted his feelings, taken his thoughts and weaponized them against his best friend.

His one true friend.

(His love.)

But it's not his friend, is it? Because he's not where he's supposed to be, and his Gordon is just as trapped as he is, with some weird bodysnatcher who-

Everything grinds to a halt as from the darkness emerges Benry. He looks a little disoriented, steps and balance uneven, but he doesn't get time to recover. Just as he's finding his footing, there's hands in his collar, and a wall manifests behind him just in time for him to get pinned by a seething, angry Barney.

"You made me complacent!" he growls with a fury that stuns Benry. "Your stupid influence, your stupid fucking brother, you both-"

"Whoa, calm down-" It's a wrong choice of words on Benry's half as Barney flings him into the ground, leaping onto him a moment later and delivering a solid punch to Benry's face. "I didn't know-!"

Barney slammed his knuckles into Benry's cheek, other hand in Benry's collar. "You had to know! You picked up that- that flag! Whatever the hell that was!" Another hit, solid and true. He heard something crack as Benry tried to push him back, but his grip was tighter. "You stole my body! You ruined my workplace! You harassed and hurt and cut the arm off my best friend and now-"

He moved to punch Benry again when his fist was intercepted. Benry had caught him mid-swing, struggling against him. "I didn't cut his arm off," Benry answered, voice low. "Don't blame me for that."

"You certainly had something t'do with it!" Barney struggled to pull back his hand, gritting his teeth as Benry's hand began to shift, dark tendrils opening up from his wrist and wrapping around Barney's hand. "You and your useless fuckin' brother!"

A chord had been struck, and the note that resonated was something Barney would not care to repeat in the future.

The words had barely left his mouth when the world shifted. Benry no longer was beneath him, holding his fist back with some effort. Now Barney was flat on his back, wrists and ankles pinned down by hundreds of fingers, all reaching out of the darkness below him.

And above loomed something with far too many eyes and a maw of teeth that seemed to stretch to eternity.

Benry stared and looked as if he was a hair's breadth from snapping.

"Do not talk about him that way." Echoing, almost deafening yet silent, Benry's words filled Barney's ears. "He is doing what he thinks is best."

Despite the fear, Barney still fought back. "Good job he's doing! Cut off a man's hand!"

"He isn't real!"

"He is to me!"

The gaping maw of the beast above closed, space becoming populated with eyes and limbs that bent and twisted in all the wrong ways. Barney swallowed, feeling tears prick at the corner of his eyes, even though he had none left to shed. "You just... get to leave after all this. Continue on your adventures. See Mother again."

Mother. A beast that would make Lovecraft consider his works for children.

A horrific thing that Barney would do anything to seek comfort and solace with.

"But this is real for me! I die, I watch other people die, I watch my friends kill and be killed! I listen to Gordon cry and scream as his hand comes off and I know, deep down, that it's real in some way. That he's feeling something, and that it has to be real!"

Still Benry looms, but silent.

"I get to be mad... don't I? Because I never wanted t'be bad, and I wasn't ever meant to be here! I was just- I got dragged here, and now I'm..." Barney drew a shaky breath, struggling slightly against his bonds. "I'm gonna be bad. The villain. Just so you can go home. Th'hell does being bad even mean!"

"It means being bad." Benry's voice didn't echo. It held the monotone that Barney had come to expect, recognize as Benry. "It means to hurt Gordon and the Science Team. To be the opposite of good. To kill them, or die trying."

Barney's eyes widened. "We are not killing Gordon!"

"No. We're not."

"Then... what are we doing? How are you going home? Because I- I don't want you here forever! I don't want to stop being me!"

Benry loosened his grip on Barney, watching as the man backed away as soon as he got his legs free. Pulling himself to his feet, he prepared to make a break for it, keeping his gaze on Benry. "Then tell me," Barney began, swallowing. "What's the plan? What are we doing? Tell me everything."

Slowly, Benry began to fold in on himself, becoming more and more Security Guard-shaped. Barney waited, watching as Benry re-adjusted his helmet. "Y'gonna listen to the plan? Not gonna, like, get upset?"

"Depends on the plan," Barney answered warily.

"Take a seat, Barn. I'll go find Forzen."

~~

Finding Forzen took only a few minutes. Barney did in fact take a seat, having conjured up a small recliner to sink into. It was comfortable so much so that he wouldn't have noticed Benry and Forzen's return.

That is, if Forzen hadn't been so damn loud.

"You absolutely broke something there," he said, tone making him sound like an older, wiser brother instead of the bratty younger one. Barney cracked open an eye, watching as Forzen fussed over Benry's cheek. "It's bleeding."

"It does that," Benry answered, trying to brush him away.

"Who the hell hit you? Who'd you even _let_ hit you?" Forzen sounded annoyed now. "They must have caught you off-guard."

"No, actually." Barney sat forward in his chair, setting his gaze on them both. "I was angry. He just let me hit him, it seems."

Forzen scowled. "Your friend sucks, Ben. Major sucks."

"Very unpoggers, right?" Benry flashed his brother a smile, earning him a slap across the back of the head.

"I still _am_ angry," Barney answered, looking at them both. "And I'm going to be until I get answers. Maybe even after."

The jovial air that surrounded Forzen and Benry immediately vanished. Their playful smiles were replaced by straight scowls, gaze set on Barney, who refused to flinch under it.

"Take a seat," Barney said, gesturing towards them. A two seater manifested, and they both obeyed, Forzen sitting on the arm of the chair while Benry vaulted over the back and splayed across the cushions.

"You want the plan." It was a statement from Benry and Barney nodded.

"The plan, with nothing left out. I'm not down for any more of your horseplay. No secrets. I want everything."

Forzen snickered. "Greedy."

Benry kicked him gently. "Shut it Zen." Then, turning his attention to Barney, "you're sure?"

Barney met his gaze. "Positive."

Sighing, Benry sat up.

~~

They started with an overview of things. Benry had been exploring technology and computers, and had gotten himself caught. In a panic, he'd picked a model to hide inside and subsequently found Barney, roping himself into the role of 'Friend of Gordon'. 

This, Barney understood. He'd experienced the possession, and Benry's explanation earlier made some form of sense, even if he didn't grasp the finer details.

But the flag. The method of leaving. That's where Barney started to lose it.

"So," he began, fingers interweaving and chin resting atop them, elbows bent on the arms of the chair, "this flag wasn't yours originally."

Benry shook his head, moving to speak when Forzen cut him off. "Belonged to Nihilanth. Big alien thing. Lives in Xen."

"And that's... the boss? The uh, the endgame?" Gaming terms weren't exactly in Barney's lexicon yet, despite the exposure to Benry.

Forzen nodded. Behind him the darkness shifted, and Barney stared at the strange form floating there. Three arms, one protruding from its chest, and a strange, almost amputated waist, along with a large head that unfolded like a flower to expose... something. Barney couldn't describe it, but he didn't need to. It only lasted a moment before vanishing. "S'posed to be in Xen. You kill it at the end."

"...But it's not there?"

"It's not there." Forzen nodded, confirming Barney's words. "Its entire file is missing. Gone."

"And we can't just move it across. It doesn't exist anywhere we can find it," Benry added. "Meaning we have a boss, and a flag, but nobody to use it."

"So you took the flag." Barney leaned back in his chair, looking upward. Nothing lingered above him, just an empty darkness. 

He blinked, and a starscape lit up above, complete with the moon in its familiar crescent shape. "You took the flag to fill the gap and become the villain. Because once you defeat a villain..."

"The game doesn't need them anymore." Benry's voice was steady. "And so, with the game not needing the villain anymore... not needing _me_ anymore... I can go home. Let you go back to your place. No more cool 'Freaky Friday' moments."

Barney laughed softly, looking at the brothers. "Freaky Friday was a body swapping movie, not a body sharing one."

Forzen grinned and Benry kicked him off the arm of the couch.

As Forzen got to his feet, ready to fight Benry, Barney interrupted. "But what was all that about making the flag 'stick' or whatever."

"Can't be the villain if you don't foreshadow it a bit," Forzen answered simply. "You like a book where the bad guy is just some random dude? Or you like it when he's cool and hinted at?"

Barney frowned. "But cutting off his hand? Really?"

"The ambush was already there," Forzen replied. "He was gonna get jumped anyway. It was just about flavour."

That made Barney's frown deeper, but he didn't argue. Sometimes you had to concede. Forzen had no attachment to this world, or to Gordon. He and Benry would leave, and there would be no consequences. It would be on Barney's shoulders alone.

Just him.

There's a moment of silence before Barney speaks again. "Did there have to be a villain?"

"If you wanted the world to keep spinning, yeah." Benry shrugged. "Otherwise, Gordon Freeman never escapes Xen, and the portals never close. Theoretically, the world goes into flux. The level never ends. Everything grinds to a halt, and then, dies."

Barney flinched at the words. "A set of unfortunate circumstances, I guess."

"Yeah," Benry agreed. "It is."

The three of them sat in silence, processing things. There was a lot of information to come to terms with, and even if they already knew it, stopping to actually think about it was something else entirely.

"After all this... does Gordon go home? Do we all just... go home? Back to our lives?"

Barney's words made Forzen tense. He looked at Benry, the two of them quietly muttering to each other. It already told Barney what he needed to know, but there was something else in their muttering, something that seemed far too in-depth for a simple Yes or No without further elaboration.

"In a way," Benry settled with as an answer. Forzen crossed his arms, refusing to meet either of their gazes. "But it depends on getting to the teleporter. That's where- That's when the real shit happens."

"When we go to Xen and become the real villain?" Barney asked.

"Yeah. We go to Xen. Together."

~~

They spoke little more of the flag and their descent into villainy. Barney asked what they'd do in Xen, and Benry answered that they'd get time to discuss that closer to the event, seeing as there was a small window of time between them entering the teleporter and ending up in Xen.

"I still think we should plan more," Barney had grumbled but still, he left the topic alone.

Benry and Forzen had left the couch at some point as Barney drifted in and out of a restless sleep. He could hear them arguing, and from the fact it lasted through several long naps, Barney could tell it was serious.

Each time he awoke, something about the two had changed. Benry's form became less human. Forzen's became more animalistic. Eventually the two of them were locked in combat, limbs and organs that Barney couldn't even begin to explain all clawing at each other, while songs filled the air, tinting the darkened void with all shades of the rainbow, and with none of the positive connotations it could hold.

Sleepily, Barney spoke. "Y'all okay?" he asked.

The fight stopped. The songs ceased. Two creatures with their countless eyes stretcing across the floors and the walls, teeth and mouth aplenty and limbs twisted and tangled turned their focus to Barney.

The man shifted in his chair. "S'kinda loud."

The monstrous forms folded in on themselves, compacting into a Security Guard and a Soldier. "Sorry," they answered in unison.

Barney went back to sleep.

~~

When Barney finally awoke, feeling alert and as close to human as he'd been in a long time, Benry was toying with something.

A passport.

"That's not a toy," Barney mumbled as he got to his feet, stretching his aching body.

Benry snapped the passport shut. "It's almost showtime."

"He's coming back?" Barney asked. Benry nodded. "How'd you know?"

"Zenny told me." Benry tucked the passport into his pocket as he got to his feet. "Listen. I know it's been rough, and I'm sorry, genuinely about Gordon. I just-" He took a breath. "I know I've made you do some bad things, but know that it's all going to work out in the end. End justifies the means, or whatever."

"D'you think we can tell Gordon about it? Right at the end? In the big speech that all villains give?" Barney flashed a hopeful smile, making Benry laugh. "Gordon's a decent guy. He'll understand."

"Yeah, sure," Benry answered. "I'll let you handle it."

"Makin' speeches is my specialty," Barney said, placing a hand on Benry's shoulder. "Y'know, I'm still kinda mad about everything, and I think I'm gonna be for a long time, but that anger's not gonna help none."

"When it's all over, you can kick my ass."

"I'd be happy to."


	33. Now We're Meeting Someone New

You are swallowed by the static ocean, but differently. Not as it should be. Instead it's more... rough. Like sand. It scrapes against you and you rub your eyes, finding the void replaced with-

You're not sure what this place is. You're standing in some water that's about waist-height, teetering on the edge of a drainage pipe. Above you is a bridge, and across from that seems to be a large building, maybe a factory or a storage barn?

'2Fort' supplies your brain a moment later. You don't question it.

Above you comes Gordon's voice, accompanied by an angry man. The sounds of a metal bat violently slamming into a skull fills the air and you wince, stepping out into the water and shivering at how cold it is. You can't see Gordon from down here, so you swim to the side, watching as he comes off the bridge and stops just before a doorway.

Doctor Coomer speaks, voice stilted, repeating only the sounds 'Gor' over and over again. 

You've always thought he was stuck in some way. Now you know it's true.

"Hello-"

The world shifts. You're seated on a platform with Bubby, Coomer, and Tommy. You're no longer wet, and the stale smell of death fills your lungs as you reaccustom yourself to the facility.

Gordon sits bolt upright like he's had a bad dream.

...Were you in his dream?

Gordon is distressed as he wakes, but you think that's fine. Nightmares can be like that, after all. The others are just annoyed they were almost struck by his wild flailing.

Oddly, Doctor Coomer isn't saying anything about the dream.

~~

You decide to play off your confusion, greeting Gordon with a friendly "Good morning!" that contradicts all your previous actions, but you'll be damned if you're not gonna make one final attempt to break away from being a villain.

(You have to be one. You must be.)

Gordon asks what the time is and honestly, you don't know. It could be morning. It could be midnight. Time has no meaning in these concrete walls and you don't really know if you care anymore. Instead you give a far more satisfactory answer. "Look up at the sky, the sun is shining!"

Coomer looks up with you. "Isn't it beautiful?" he asks. You agree. It's quite a lovely sun.

"'s a light. It's a fluorescent light," Gordon says. You blink. Huh. So it is. Strange. Maybe you really do need to go outside.

But that thought throws itself out the window as you spot the body of a dead guard, bullet wound still fresh enough to be emitting smoke from the gunpowder. Fancy.  
"Yo, who killed me!"

Everyone is amused by the nearby corpse and you let out a 'no' in sad protest. They shouldn't be as amused by it. Was that a death you don't remember? Or is it not you? With all guards looking the same, it's getting really hard to keep track of that stuff.

(You won't have to keep track for long.)

"You've died a lot of times," Coomer points out.

You sigh, lamenting that fact. "Man..."

~~

"The baby's crib is descending!"

You're not sure why you exclaim this. Maybe you're all babies. Maybe it's a crib because Gordon slept on it. Maybe there's no reason at all and you're just spitting out words.

Any of those is a good and valid option.

But the 'baby's crib' descends into a laboratory with a man you've never seen. He's counting formulas or something, but you're more interested in fucking around with all the dangerous and sharp looking things in his lab. Gordon never really let you touch any of the instruments in his lab (of which there were few, he worked in theory after all).

Your investigation of his lab brings you to the table laden with chemicals and other assortments, which in turn makes you want to question this man. He shouldn't be having all this stuff here without clearance.

(You don't say the word though.)

"You work here?" you ask instead.

"I'm Darnold!" comes the answer. You've never met a Darnold before. Not in or out of Black Mesa.

"Darnold?" You're absolutely baffled. Gordon seems to be too. From your point of view, both you and Gordon don't think Darnold is a real name.

Gordon says as much. "That's not a real name."

Bubby thinks it's normal. He's betrayed you. Or perhaps feels sympathy because his name is Bubby, another name someone could argue wasn't real.

The man in question seems to frown. "It can be," he says. You watch him wring his hands together, skin dark and hair greying. It's different from your companions.

You wonder if you ever had diffrent skin. You weren't always a Security Guard. 

It takes a moment for you to realize it's not You asking the question about yourself, but your components. Barney is asking a question. Benry is giving the emotional equivalent of a shrug. He doesn't even have skin.

Question answered. Good job. Back on track.

~~

Coomer alerts the group there is no soda. It's unfortunate but you'll cope. You don't even like the stuff.

The metal cans on the other hand, delicious.

(They are not.)

"What you been doin'?" you try and ask, gesturing to the various bottles and cans on the bench, but Gordon seems to be one step ahead, pushing past Darnold and yourself to investigate the items. He's being rude.

You bet his passport would have a big warning on it for him being rude. It's clear why Tommy likes him now.

~~

It looks like Darnold and Gordon might get into a fight over the research-groceries. While you don't think Darnold could throw a punch, you'd sure like to see him try.

Seeing Gordon get the shit kicked out of him would certainly-

(Your balled fists make crescent moons in your palms.)

~~

Darnold works in Mixology. It's not something you've heard of before, but Black Mesa has a lot of things you've never heard of before.

Like Aliens!

And a Skull Grinding Facility!

(How you know about that, you can't work out.)

Apparently Cybernetics was supposed to be here, according to the conversation but you're far more entertained by sneaking away random ingredients from the research bench. Right now you've got a can of Powerade that should taste like the feeling you get after you stretch and it's really good.

You even manage to sneak away another can, and take a seat on the nearby barrel, completely disregarding the 'do not sit' warning that comes with it. You're a rebel, what can you say?

Also, you're so tired of caring what comes next. Might as well spice things up by sitting on a potion or two. Maybe it'll malfunction and make Gordon grow another arm or something.

Can potions malfunction? Or is that simply a byproduct of something mechanical not working?

You don't really care enough to work it out.

~~

"You don't have a hand!" Darnold exclaims, which absolutely makes you lose it. You laugh at Gordon, ignoring the look he gives you in response. The man's too busy trying to talk to Darnold and possibly get something done to it.

If he hasn't died from blood loss right now, surely he'll be fine.

"Yeah you fucked up!" You say, getting off the potion and approaching the group. "Yo he fucked up, he lost his arm like a- like a idiot!"

Gordon looks like he's about to throttle you as Darnold starts speaking, investigating the wound. You could go for some banter, but it seems Gordon has more important things to attend to.

(You want him to fix his arm and get better and go home and Not Fight You.)

But important things are also boring. At least right now, when you're not involved, so you just settle for making a mess of the lab, swiping things off the bench like a petulant cat. Anything that didn't hit the floor gets added to your little stash, slowly growing as the others all chat about science and doctorates and other things you're not qualified to know about.

If you were a scientist you'd simply skip to the part where Gordon's hand gets welded back on, or whatever the hell they're planning over there.

~~

You've been vaguely paying attention. There's potions and Powerade and doctorates and other junk that's just in one ear and out the other.

But the bit that's caught your interest is the computer nearby, currently with a torrent for Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas open. You have no idea what that is, but it sounds cool, and you know it's a 2004 action-adventure game developed by Rockstar North and published-

Okay, no need to actually work that out. You didn't actually care that much. Bigger fish to fry right now.

Gordon cocks his head to the side, looking to Darnold. "I think he's about to delete all your files."

You wouldn't. Darnold doesn't seem to think so either. "Can you seed that for me please?"

Seeding it could very well be possible, but you're running EXE crack instead so that's going to have to wait.

~~

"Please don't sit on the potion," is the first thing you process Darnold saying. You see Coomer sitting on the potion you had been on only ten or so minutes ago. Honestly you're surprised you didn't get caught. Or Darnold was being nice to you.

Coomer gets up, knocking it over. Darnold gasps. You are shocked. "Yo, ya knocked it over!"

"Ya knocked the damn potion!" Darnold moves to pick up the barrel while the others fuss about. Coomer tries to deflect with the traditional "it's probably fine", which is great because if it's ruined now, you won't know if it was him or you.

You shake your head. "Touched the damn potion..." you chide, ignoring hypocrisy. Potions aren't even real anyways. It's probably an energy drink spiked with immunity boosters or something.

Apparently Darnold's potion is corrosive. Interesting. You're starting to get worried about Gordon drinking it, as it's being heavily implied he will, but also if he dies here, then you don't have to kill-

You're not going to kill him, and he's not going to die. This stupid Flag is really ruining your thoughts. Still, if you focus, you can overcome its influence. You can fight your nature, or whatever.

The encouragement isn't helping any. Coomer, of course, is extremely jovial. "Come now, Gordon. Aren't you thirsty?"

You know he is. He may have gotten his fill in the Powerade river but that was like, forever ago.

(He doesn't need to drink it's not real-)

Maybe Bubby is picking up your unease. He sits on the potion again, knocking the barrel out of Darnold's hands. Maybe that'll make it useless, and Gordon doesn't have to drink a possibly corrosive potion that may or may not fix his arm?

When did your life get like this...

Well, at least you're not the one drinking an entire barrel of potion.

~~

A barrel is 42 gallons, or roughly 159 liters. That's a lot of liquid.

Gordon apparently has to drink it all. You're in shock. Impressed, even. If he manages to down that much, then you'll-

You have no idea what you'll do. Honest. Maybe it'll just break everything.

Tommy assures Gordon he should trust Darnold. He made the Powerade after all, so surely it'll be fine. Which, yeah, maybe.

But 42 gallons. That's a whole lot.

And Gordon doesn't even have his Black Mesa Official Silly Straw.

Guess he'll have a subpar experience of drinking brown.

(You sing a song quietly that tastes of brown. It sucks.)

"I'm still holdin' it at the proper angle," Darnold says as you watch Gordon hesitantly look at the barrel. "So just put your mouth on it and get to suckin'."

You almost keel over in laughter. Your companions are much the same.

(In the corner of your eye you see Forzen snicker, then quickly vanish.)

"Gordon knows how to suck and he does it well," you comment, alongside Coomer's helpful and encouraging "chug-a-lug Gordon!". Hopefully it'll help him manage.

"Don't you tell me what I know about suckin', buddy!" Gordon says to you with a grin. You're not telling him anything new. You've seen him suck down a McDonalds Large Coke in ten seconds flat.

...What's a McDonalds.

Question for another time. Right now it's potions.

You just open and close your hand, making grunts of annoyance as you do, mocking Gordon. He ignores it and asks Darnold some more questions.

Hurry up, you think.

Or actually, don't. This won't end well either way, you think.

~~

Gordon puts his mouth on the barrel opening and begins to chug. You watch him desperately try and get most of the potion in his mouth, although some of it does run down his chin and drip onto the floor.

"Yeah Brazzers!" you shout, although you have no idea what that has to do with the situation. It could be something cool. Maybe Forzen knows. You'll ask him later.

Coomer's voice is low as he encourages Gordon with a demanding "chug" that carries much expectation. Darnold is simply impressed, crying out a gleeful "You gettin' it in there!" as you watch Gordon's stump begin to twist and shift.

Tommy shouts for Gordon to do something crazy and for a moment you're confused, but it makes sense as Tommy shotguns a can of Powerade from your little stash and crushes it against his head like it's paper. You remember being a college kid and going to parties. 

Maybe you should take Tommy out for some drinks after this instead. You'd love to see him off the shits. Maybe you could ride a mechanical bull together.

~~

Gordon claims the potion tastes like most colours, not just brown. That's concerning. The potion is supposed to be working, if you trust what Darnold is saying, or the effects Coomer is feeling but-

"It's only s'posed to taste like brown!"

"What?!"

You watch Gordon drop down onto the floor, having drained most of the barrel. He twists and writhes for a minute, skin glistening with sweat. His hand looks different. Not like skin but... metal. A sheen that's not sweat but perhaps crisp black steel catching the lights. 

Darnold sets down the empty barrel. "Is he okay? Does he normally look like this?"

You'd like to say no, but you can't. Your mouth won't let you. 

Skeletal fingers stop your jaw moving, although everyone's too distracted to see.

Bubby at least has your back. "I don't know, he's never done this."

You're right. But then again, who has regrown a hand?

Apparently the potion has only been tested on a mouse, which technically makes Gordon a guinea pig, even if he's some kind of human.

(Not human. Code. Player. Something else.)

It seems everyone only just noticed his gun arm, given their responses. You're just impressed with how neat it looks. You kinda want one.

Coomer offers a playcoin trade to purge toxins, but Gordon doesn't answer. He's too busy coughing and wheezing, skin as pale as Bubby's. Unnaturally so. 

"Brown is supposed to taste good..."

Gordon doesn't seem to be listening. He's too caught up in his new arm. You kinda wanna see what it can do. It's a gun, so it's gotta be cool. Nobody gets a lame gun arm. That'd be stupid.

...Stupid things have happened before, to be fair.

~~

Gordon's new hand is fussed over, although primarily by Gordon himself, and Darnold, who is eager to see the fruits of his research. You just idly watch, waiting for something that you can make a comment about. 

Maybe if you didn't drop out of college you'd have something to contribute.

Or if you even went to college. What's a college? What's a doctorate?

Can people in hospitals do mixology?

You explain these details to yourself slowly, not trying to get too in-depth in case you miss anything important. There's a mention of physical therapy, which you almost entirely ignore except Gordon proceeds to fire a volley of bullets into the floor.

It wakes you up, that's for certain. "Whoa!"

Everyone is surprised, except for Darnold. Apparently it's normal to fire your fingernails from your fingertips, or whatever. You're very curious about what aprt of Black Mesa Darnold comes from if he believes that.

Or what part of the world. That's just- Even Benry has no idea what's going on.

Bubby can do it too, or so he says, which backs up the theory that it's a Black Mesa thing. You're adding it to the already miles long list of weird shit Black Mesa does. 

Gordon is freaking out about his new hand, which is somewhat reasonable, but it's also been like five minutes so he should be used to it by now.

You propose a theory to yourself; Passports reduce the strange effects witnessing catastrophic Black Mesa-level nonsense has on the psyche.

A conversation about fingernails goes entirely over your head, as does several fingernails as Gordon unloads his new handgun (haha, pun,) onto the wall of the lab.

"You have so many fingernails," you note with amusement.

"I've increased your fingernail effectiveness by ten thousand percent," Darnold explains, answering your unsaid question. You didn't even know fingernails had an effectiveness level. Looks like you're learning something even without that college degree.

Look at you go!

~~

You hear Darnold's voice drop. "Press all buttons to activate Devil Gun Mode!"

Nobody except Gordon seems to acknowledge it. You assume that's some kind of fourth wall thing. Something that your little bodysnatching friend has permitted you to hear.

(Or knowing nothing is real, you see the parts that make it up.)

(But it's real to you.)

Darnold doesn't even register that he's said anything about Devil Gun Mode. 

You suppose he's like Coomer in a sense. A vessel for information and statements, made unaware by their speaker. Coomer says so much involuntarily, it's odd to hear the same strangeness come from someone else.

It drives home the unfortunate truth that you try to swallow and ignore.

(The truth stares you in the face and yet you still can't accept it fully.)

You keep changing stances, thinking it's all real and all not, but it's hard to consider your world is fake, when it's all so real to you. How it flickers between polygons and perfection, numbers to objects.

Maybe it'll all be better when Benry leaves, you suppose.

(You feel hurt inside, and you stop to consider how much you're enjoying their company.)

(The hurting abates.)

~~

Gordon calls you a friend on accident, and tries to redact it. "Our assailant," he says with haste.

Too late. "Great friend!" you proclaim. He's going to wrestle that one out of your cold, dead hands.

(Soon. Soon.)

You invite Darnold to your server, having patched his Team Fortress client to the newest update. It's the Pyro update.

Darnold is unimpressed. "Delete that, really- Delete that right fuckin now!"

You don't even know what Team Fortress is.

"No!" comes your heated response. "This- I wanna play Heavy- Pyro with the air poof."

But it seems you won't because Darnold's computer has potions on it. You thought it'd make his computer run faster, like game fuel, but apparently not. Maybe he'll just enjoy his extra RAM and forgive you for your transgressions.

~~

Darnold is working on Evil flavoured Powerade.

You wonder if you can taste it.

~~

The computer is a gaming computer now, but Darnold thinks it's unuseable. What kind of scientist can't tell a gaming computer from a burnt out wreck?

~~

Everyone is confessing their kill count in an attempt to bring Darnold up to speed on the attack on Black Mesa.

"I haven't killed anyone," you lie in an attempt to make someone laugh.

Gordon unloads a full clip of fingernails into you. "Why doesn't it work!"

You spit out some fingernails, spluttering. Gordon just laughs.

~~

Darnold agrees to come with you all. It's pretty cool! You could use a new friend. All these ones seem to be a bit tired of your antics, and despite Bubby and Tommy having your back (even if it's only slightly), you could use more people on your side.

As a token of good will, he motions for everyone to take something from his box of mystery gadgets.

You decide to offer Gordon a bottle as your token of good will.

"You want me to drink this clorox?" he asks, gesturing to the bottle you've dropped at his feet.

You huff. "It's milk, bro."

With a scowl, Gordon shoots the bottle away, sending it skittering across the floor. "What kinda milk are you drinkin'?"

The only type. "Good."

~~

Bubby finds a gun that teleports him away. You think it's kinda nice.

Tommy finds a neat hat. You wonder if he'll take off with it.

Coomer finds The Big One. You would hate to be on the end of that.

~~

You watch Coomer fire The Big One and decide it's not a threat at all.

Which means it'll be easier to kill him at the end-

Nope, not doing that thought process again. Bad.

(If you had a water bottle, you'd spray yourself.)

~~

The others are preparing to leave the lab with Darnold while you try and play the new gaming computer you've made for Darnold. It's why you manage to hear them all walk out the door, and then hear Darnold immediately backpedal, crying out in fear as he runs back into the lab.

It's all too much for Darnold. He wants to stay here in his lab.

Or not, considering he just blasted away on his rocket boots.

Damn. Those would have been nice to share.

"No, take me with you bro!" you call out because you've been dreaming of jet shoes ever since you saw Back To The Future as a kid. Hoverboards, jet shoes, the whole works.

(You can't remember a single thing about the movie.)

"You can't go," Gordon says, almost resigned. "You're coming with us because that's what you've-"

"Hey!" you step forward towards him, poking a finger into his chestplate. "You're the one who keeps killing people."

A stream of fingernails embed themselves into your face, splattering blood all over your skin and into your eyes. "I wish I could kill yoooooou!"

God, he needs to calm down. You sing him a song.

Gordon chokes ever so slightly on the flavour. "Fuck, man, I don't want any more of your balls!"

He needs to work on phrasing things. Your Gordon always slipped up with that stuff. One time, he-

No. It didn't happen. Don't dwell on it.

(You gently try to assure yourself it did happen.)

Gordon turns away. "Keep 'em to yourself, okay?"

You frown but follow as Gordon leads the way, a bloodlust for boot boy murder driving him on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go read the Barnrey tumblr comic update it slapped and I am going to die because it hit every single little thing I like
> 
> Also follow my twitter @hinoofthedawn and my tumblr @ hino-of-the-dawn
> 
> Also new chapter naming convention. We're getting towards the end now.


	34. Now We're Almost There

The aliens summon bees from their hands, which is something you're not comfortable with! Coupled with the manta rays in the sky (Dactars by Tommy's words), you're feeling a little out of your depth.

It doesn't help the military fly overhead, dropping down a handful of explosives that take out the aliens, and almost send you all to the void. Both you and Bubby cry out in surprise, voices a harmony in your shock

You both give each other a thumbs up for you in-sync moment.

Gordon begins to panic. "Was that an airstrike?!"

"Call of Duty Airstrike!" you tell him. You've never played Call of Duty. Is that a game? Coomer would know, but he seems a bit preoccupied right now, so you'll ask later. "We got a killstreak!"

(Technically you've had several, but they ended before you could redeem your rewards.)

(You get rewarded?)

~~

Coomer and Gordon unload into a boot boy that looks like Forzen. You try not to think hard about that, even as his body becomes more and more mangled with each passing second.

Then you blink, and it's a clean model, no blood, no gore, nothing.

Perhaps there are advantages for seeing your world as a game.

~~

Fighting your way onwards, you all enter a building, both to raid the armoury upstairs, but also to clear out the boot boys.

On a table you find pages upon pages of documents, all smudged beyond comprehension, yet you know these are meant to be something important, or at least play the role of something important. "They got documents in here."

"Documents?" Gordon trots over to you.

Coomer frowns. "Oh, I hate documents."

You do too. The amount of paperwork they make you guards sign...

"Look at all these Grand Theft Auto cheat codes!"

Gordon's halfway through asking if they're military or Black Mesa papers when you tell him.

Bubby destroys the benches as you tell Gordon how they're all cheat codes, and Gordon begs for at least a scrap of intel to use against their oppressors.

Looks like nobody's getting the blurry nonsense on the papers.

~~

There's a military radio nearby, and all of you crowd around it, eager to hear what military intel you can scrape together. Gordon insists nobody touches it, afraid it's going to blow up or get ruined.

All the voice on the end talks about is bathrooms and airplanes.

You all mull it over as you ransack the armoury upstairs, and Coomer puts his military knowledge to use. 

They're going to bomb the facility into the ground.

...Guess you're not getting your PTO handed out any time soon, huh.

You're about to be out of the job.

That is, if you don't die before there's no facility left.

...Or maybe they're just going to bomb all the bathrooms and leave everything else alone.

Time will tell.

~~

There's a ladder dangling from a broken catwalk, and it's the only way to the other side of the building.

For the others at least. You could just clip through the wall.

...You shouldn't be so used to that as an idea. One day you're going to walk into a wall and look like a god damn idiot.

Bubby and Gordon are arguing while you just watch, and as Bubby shouts at Gordon to go, and Gordon cusses Bubby out, you call out the most encouraging thing you can.

"Don't fuck up!"

...Which he immediately does.

"Fuckin' hell," Gordon grumbles, rubbing the spot on his forehead where he slammed it into a ladder rung.

You snicker. "Wow, someone sucks at ladders bro," you tease as Bubby berates from on high. Coomer joins in with the tone of a disappointed father.

Unimpressed, Gordon punches you in the back of the head with his gun hand.

Ow.

Then, a punch to the face that sends you back a good few meters, although you don't stumble, but instead glide across the floor.

Ow. Again.

Rolling your eyes at Gordon's childishness, you bring your own into the mix. He did say you were good at it. "Follow me little child, follow me, follow me."

He does, if only because you're actively going to the same place, and you managed to get ahead of him.

It's all about the little victories.

"Do you need a chicken hat?" you ask as you stand by the window that Gordon will need to climb through. You're not sure what the hat does, but you feel like it'll make things easier.

Is it a placebo effect? Or is this more reality-shattering stuff?

...

Hm. You're uh, not actually sure anymore.

Where... is your world?

"You got a chicken hat?" Gordon asks, distracting you. "Put it on!"

You blink, climbing out of the window after him and walking along the thin railing, arms out to balance you. "If you die enough times, I give you a chicken hat."

Gordon simply flips you off and lets Coomer help him up the ladder instead.

~~

Things are coming to an end. You're aware of this, but still, it surprises you.

But at the same time, you know it won't end.

But it will. You've- You've been talking about this for so long.

...

Your name is-

~~

You watch as Doctor Coomer almost hits Gordon with two rockets.

It'd be an anticlimatic end to it all.

But at least it wouldn't be you who killed Gordon!

~~

Nerves are starting to build. This is getting close. In less than an hour, you'll be fighting your friends.

(Or longer. You should ask Coomer what his estimate is.)

You begin to shift that energy into a vogue, which you'd done long ago, before the frozen meat department.

That was so long ago. When you barely knew anything about yourself.

A warmth blooms in your chest. You know who you are now, to a degree. You've met your components, and they've met each other. You're all becoming acquainted, and you've all agreed on the task at hand.

You're going to fight (but not kill) Gordon Freeman, and you're going to do it together, so you can all have your happy ending.

...It'll be a happy one. You know it.

Surely. It has to be.

You rejoin the group as your nerves fade out.

Yeah. It's gonna be okay. The two of you will get through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I was sad, so I'm posting this.
> 
> Come vibe at my twitter @hinoofthedawn


	35. Now The Path Grows Tricky

Bubby's connection drops to dial-up speed.

...Which is weird because he's a person and-

No, you remind yourself. None of you are.

...But he's still a person of sorts, just as you are, and it's still weird to actually make those noises with your mouth.

God, you haven't heard the dial-up sound in so long. It makes you nostalgic, even though you only recently learned of computers and the internet by getting trapped in one.

Hopefully, you can brush up with a Wikipedia article later.

~~

Coomer breaks the fourth wall again, and you take that as a sign you're getting to the end. It must be terrifying for him, not having a tiny voice to explain why your world is fake, having to find out on your own.

...Then again, having a voice in your head that explains it isn't all that great either.

No offense.

None taken.

~~

Gordon leads the way through a vent. It's cramped and leaves barely any room, your helmet knocking against the ceiling as you get into optimal crawling position, but you'll cope.

What you can't really cope with is, well, the view. The HEV suit isn't skin tight, but you still can see the definition of Gordon's backside.

You once touched it on accident while you and Gordon were barhopping, and he'd just laughed it off and touched yours in response.

You've never touched his behind before. You want to.

Or at least admire it. "Ooo, likin' the view from back here."

Gordon cranes his head back, scowling. "What is your fucking problem?!"

If you needed reassurance that this wasn't your Gordon, you sure as hell got it.

~~

There's some alien eggs in the vent. You're awfully hungry, as are the others. No vending machines have been found for a while.

"Yo eggs, eat 'em up!"

You ignore the tiny aliens that hatched from them. Not your problem. Not your division.

Besides, it's just like caviar. Probably, at least.

~~

You all drop out of a vent, getting a drop on the military.

Literally.

You don't really bother yourself with them, nor do you really fuss with the Snarks that Bubby has found.

(Their name appears in your head without warning and you accept it.)

Instead you look at the car, emblazoned with the Black Mesa logo. You're thinking about this, about how you could escape in the car and take everyone with you.

But you have to go to Xen.

But it'd be nice if you could ride in the car too.

You imagine doing both, and immediately think of driving a car into Xen, hopping from island to island with some cool drifting tricks.

For some reason your heart aches at that. You don't know why.

It just does.

Are you hiding something?

Copper Blood and Pigeons. A distraction.

...Please, you want to know the truth.

The truth is-

The Snark has attacked Tommy, although it does little more than take tiny bites that do nothing to the man, considering how immortal he and the rest of the Science Team are.

...Were you thinking about something before that? You can't recall.

~~

You race ahead on the catwalks, intending to clear out the enemies, and maybe have a few moments to yourself. Breathe a little. Make sure your plans are solid.

Gordon doesn't like that. "Where the fuck are you g- s- get back here, Benry, get back here, Benry!"

He catches up to you relatively fast, which is disappointing. "Can you not go out of our sight?" Gordon says. He doesn't trust you. He has a good reason not to.

You turn sharply, a bitterness in your chest. "Leave me alone~"

Gordon does not. "I don't trust you in the slightest!"

He shouldn't. Still, you can't help but fight back. "Get out of my room!"

You do not get that moment to breathe.

~~

A moment to breathe, you do not get.

A moment to stand underwater and just exist? That's one thing you can have.

Your eyes are shut, no longer breathing (although you never had to) as you think. Your plan is taking shape, becoming more defined. You are deciding your roles, and your parts, Barney and Benry, they are agreeing with you.

They are You, after all. Still, they are valuing your additions, even if it comes from them still, the little corners of their brain that they don't actively think about.

"You good, Benry?" Gordon asks, appearing before you. You blink, pulling yourself out of an internalized conversation. 

The word "yup" barely leaves your mouth before Gordon unloads a clip of fingernails into your face. "I hope not!"

The animosity he feels towards you seesaws almost as hard as your kindness towards him.

~~

An explosive is thrown into the pipe you and the others have clambered into, and although the fire doesn't reach you, it still rushes past and dries the water from your clothes.

It was pixelated horribly, and yet, detailed far beyond compare.

You are seeing paradoxes, not just thinking them.

~~

Tommy keeps closing himself into the pipe due to a misunderstanding about doors.

You bite your lip to not laugh.

~~

Doctor Coomer has found a medical station. Tommy should use it, but you make it there first. Gordon's been filling you with fingernails and your body is _not_ appreciating it.

Bubby takes the last of the juice, but you're the one blamed for it as Gordon storms over to you. "Blood good," is all you have to say as he punches you with his new gun arm, launching you across the room.

You land on your feet, as you always do.

Like a cat.

...What's a cat?

" _Fuck_ you," Gordon spits, genuinely mad at your use of the medical station. Maybe if he didn't shoot you, there'd be some god damn blood left.

Gordon always donated blood, he should know that blood is good.

"Damn, this thing really packs a wallop!" His voice sounds impressed, and you attempt to mock him as you jog back over, not at all impressed with the fact you're probably losing the blood you just took from the station.

At least the violence is brightening Gordon's mood. "Just blew you across the room! Hey, let's try that again."

You begin to panic, but Gordon hits you before you can do anything. "Hey, I can beat Benry up now!"

"No, I did that," you lie. You don't want him to keep hurting you. You can only ignore pain for so long. At some point you'll have to accept the fact that it does hurt, at which point it _will_ hurt. "I'm jumping around!"

Gordon laughs, and you know you've been caught out. "No you're not. That is absolutely me. That is my doing!"

You try and run away from him, but he won't get the message. "Come here, come here kid!" He punches you in the chest, cursing you out.

An anger builds in your chest. If he can hurt you like this, then it means you'll have to hurt him later. It's the rules you're governed by, carved in the flagpole your little flag is attached to.

A stream of blue comes from your throat as you hack out a song that's like salt and ice and burning. You sing it as you break away from Gordon, then as you march up and try to get the taste to stick to him.

Maybe even some in the eyes, if only to see if the salt stings.

Resigned, Gordon sighs. "Ugh, okay, I'll stop."

Coomer begins to say something but you can't hear him, still singing despite the burning in your lungs telling you that you should take a breath.

But then you realize you don't need to breathe, never did, and you're able to hold the note for longer.

"I'm gonna stop, okay, I'm gonna stop!" Gordon's anger boils over, and you wonder if it's from himself or from your voice, a feeling penetrating him and amplifying his own emotions. Taking them over.

Like you've been taken over. You keep forgetting this.

"I'm gonna stop, just- stop- stop with the balls! I hate it."

Annoyed and exhausted, you walk away, joining the rest of the Science Team.

"Tommy," Gordon calls out, confused. "What does it mean? He shot blue."

"That's a lotta blue," Tommy comments as you approach, the lights fading away into the air.

Gordon agrees. "That is a lotta blue, you know what it mean-"

"It means I hate you!"

Your fists curl as you say it, anger clear on your face, although hidden under the blood that Gordon's spread across your model (body) as he's struck you.

Perhaps a teal green heal beam would help right now.

...It wouldn't heal a broken heart, so maybe not.

It doesn't matter. You tell Gordon you hate him and he punches you again, knocking you into a corner before unloading his arm into your face, making a mess of you.

He walks off without a word. Your hatred grows.

Your flag billows in the wind.

~~

The security guard Coomer had found during your kerfuffle opens the doors to the Black Mesa parking lot, which also serves as a route to the Lambda lab. As the roller shutter rolls upwards, you watch as Bubby drives a caddilac towards you all.

...Did he clip through the wall too? Did his trip to space teach him the truth of this world?

...Would he ever tell you?

The thought vanishes from your mind as you ride on the front of the caddy, bidding the security guard a farewell. It doesn't last long, as Bubby's awful driving prompts you to criticize him as he struggles in the cramped carpark.

Eventually you abandon your seat up front and jump into the back with Gordon and Tommy, relaxing into the soft leather seat.

Gordon welcomes you, then turns his attention to Bubby's driving.

But as you get comfortable, you notice something, grinning. "There's a pungent smell right beside me. I don't know..." You smile, looking to Gordon, who still smells like a sewer mixed with nuclear waste.

Gordon rolls his eyes. "Oh my god, shut uuuup!"

There he is, being kind and playful, when before he tried to kill you.

Then again, you're much the same.

Is the tonal whiplash because you keep changing back and forth? Or is he wrestling with something else?

You wish you knew the answer.

~~

You're going on a road trip. You're going to the moon.

You are going neither of these places, but you're having fun, so fuck it.

The moon would be a nice place though. Maybe it's made of cheese.

...Why would it be made of cheese?

Because of the story. Everyone knows it.

You don't.

Well then...

~~

The car comes to an early stop as Bubby drives straight into a wall. You all need to get out, but now you're feeling playful. Especially since Gordon seems to be in a good mood right now.

Yeah, you think this is a great idea.

So you think of the caddy, and of the seat, and of the space between the seat and Gordon, tiny and miniscule, but still there. It's not zero, but close to.

You focus on that place, and breathe out as you hoist yourself over the edge of the caddy's back door. You think of gluing Gordon to the seat, in the way your college dormmates once stuck your buddy Thomas to a chair and ripped his pants trying to pull him off later.

Oh this is gonna be good.

~~

Gordon asks how to get out of a car. You tell him to stay there.

Which he'll have to considering you stuck him to the seat.

...

Why is the car smoking like that?

~~

The car explodes and Gordon comes free of his seat without any damage. It's surprising. He's shaken, as is everyone else, but as Tommy asks why Gordon didn't get out, they learn the answer.

_"Did this bitch put glue on the seat!?"_

Gordon points at you, grinning in shock and at the audacity of your actions.

"My ass is sticky!"

There's a beat of silence, then the Science Team come to life, congratulating you and laughing as if it's one of your classic pranks, pulled by you often enough to be recognized as part of your prankster's repertoire.

"Oh you got pranked!" you shout as you run over, pointing at Gordon. You ignore the fact he was just in a car explosion. If you think too hard, you're not sure what might happen.

You fake a laugh, but Gordon's is genuine as he gets to his feet and dusts himself off.

Coomer just grins. "You really fell for it this time, Gordon."

You agree. He sure did.

~~

Coomer's ex-wife sends a message through a radio, talking about designating air strikes. Then, they send messages about bathrooms.

Gordon tries to communicate in return. You roll your eyes.

The operator responds to Gordon's bullshit with a string of Airplane and Bathrooms. Bubby and Gordon proceed to unload hell onto the radio. It doesn't break like all the others, but that's because it's a vital piece of the next puzzle, and has to exist.

Man, you're really getting comfortable discussing the nature of reality as nothing more than a game. S'kinda weird. 

Oh god. Maybe Benry really is taking over.

~~

Gordon is standing on the device that signals for the airstrikes. It looks like a photocopier, or a scanner.

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. "I'm scanning your feet."

Looking down, Gordon tries to work it out. He hasn't even realized what he's standing on.

Dumbass.

(Your dumbass.)

(Not yours. Yours isn't here.)

"Huh? What is this?"

"It's scanning your feet! This is FootScanner HD! We're gonna get high-res pictures of your feet, bro."

You're grinning as you talk. It feels ridiculous, but you're having some kind of fun teasing him, and he seems to be having fun too, or as close as he gets when you're involved. "I don't want you to have pictures of my feet, I don't- I don't want _you_ to have pictures of my feet."

Does he not trust you? It's not like you'd share them.

They wouldn't make it onto a mailing list for Anomalous Materials, not at all. Not like last time he passed out drunk in the Level 3 Dorms, or when Kleiner caught him asleep on his desk and proceeded to balance 38 beakers on him.

...

Maybe it's wise that he doesn't trust you.

"Y'know what, get off!" He shoves you with his gun arm, knowing that'll get you away from him.

You sum up your best comment and shout it out. "Gordon Feetman!"

His laughter is music to your ears.

~~

Everyone begins chewing Gordon out for not knowing the Footscanner was actually an airstrike array device, and for believing what you said.

"Tell him to shut up then!" Gordon shouts.

"No, you shut up!" you yell in return, relishing in these last petty moments.

Still, when Gordon laughs and asks where you are, you find comfort in that.

~~

You need some time away from the group. Process your feelings. You keep getting closer to the end, and you're still so attached. You're not ready.

Would you ever be?

In an empty hallway, ahead of the Science Team, you hear a bark. It's perfect, almost like a stock sound.

...Stock sounds?

It's generic, you amend. Like what you imagine a dog would sound like. 

"Ben!"

Forzen?  
You turn, your head, finding him off to your left, hand gripping the collar of the largest dog you've ever seen. "Zenny?"

"Try not to look directly at the dog," he warns. You proceed to ignore him. 

The dog is large, almost shoulder height. It has lushious golden fur that catches the overhead lights, and you want nothing more than to bury your face in its fur and play fetch.

The dog is flat, an image of a sitting dog, and it floats off the ground ever so slightly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, grasping the side of your head as the mental images battle for dominance. "Warned you," comes Forzen's voice.

Rubbing at your eyes, you cautiously open them, focusing on your brother's mildly amused expression and not the perfect dog at his side. "Zenny, why do you have a dog?"

"Found it," he answers, patting its head. The dog barks once, perfectly. "It's Tommy's dog. Sunkist. Must've broken in here when the Resonance Cascade started. S'a weird day, huh? I don't think this is even in the original Half Life."

Original? You think about it, and watch as Forzen's face softens in pity as you try very hard not to dwell on the concept. "Thanks Forzen."

He shrugs. "No prob." Shifting his focus to the dog, he scratches them under the chin. "I... I kinda gotta hold her hostage for a bit. Something has to happen to Sunkist, but it's not in the file. Make it up as we go."

"Will it stop Gordon?" You feel concern leap up, getting caught in your throat. "We don't have to fight him."

"You do," Forzen answers, placing a hand on your shoulder. You look at him, and there must be something in your eyes, because he nods. "Yeah. You gotta fight him."

A sigh leaves your mouth. Forzen gives your shoulder a squeeze. "Hey, this'll just get them ready. They'll win, Benny. You don't have to kill them."

It's a comfort, albeit a minor one. "Thanks, Forzen."

He blinks. "Barney?"

You nod. "Thanks," is all you say, patting him on the shoulder before continuing along.

Forzen watches your back as you leave, but you don't turn around to meet his gaze.

You know what he's asking with it, and you know the answer.

You know you are not prepared.

~~

Later you'll learn the dog was immortal.

Tommy is quite the scientist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, we are almost there.  
> Buckle in.


	36. Now We're Ready For The Playstation 3 (Or Maybe Not, My PSN Ran Out)

Partway through a scientist explaining about flooding the core, you manifest. No warning, no grand announcement, you're just standing there as Gordon turns his head.

"This guy's crazy," you say, not wanting to listen to whatever the scientist has to say.

"Don't kill him," Gordon says.

You're not gonna listen. "You're crazy, you're crazy, buddy." You repeat yourself, making sure the scientist, and the others, all know.

Gordon stares at you. "The last time you told a man he was crazy, you shot 'im in the face, please don't, Benry, I'm-"

Desperation catches on his face, and you barely see it from the corner of your eye. "I'm fuckin' begging you man! I can't-" He cuts himself off, listening to something Coomer has to say.

Which prompts him to miss the man placing a kiss onto the retinal scanners. "Look look! He's kissing the panel!"

"He's kissing the panel? I didn't-" You shoot the scientist in the face.

You kill him, and you know it doesn't matter, and you can't bring yourself to.

You know the scientists here will die, and that it doesn't matter if they don't, because they're not real. 

But they are. But they're not.

Bubby gives the corpse a cheery goodbye as you walk away, faintly hearing Gordon's apologies.

They're meaningless now.

~~

There's a dead scientist inside the Lambda Reactor Coolant area. "Yo, who did that?" you ask, pointing through the glass at the dead body. "Someone died."

You say this like it's a new occurrence.

Gordon tells you the culprit doesn't matter, because you would have killed him anyway. Just because he's right, doesn't mean he should say it.

~~

This is the final step. Flooding the reactor with coolant will open the path to Xen. You'll just need to do a teleporting puzzle, and then-

Why do you know that? You know why you know that, but still... You shouldn't know the exact details of what lies ahead.

You're losing it. You'd lost it hours ago.

If you keep stalling like this, you'll lose so much more.

But you can't help but say it, forcing the words out despite you trying to bring them back. "Let's go home."

You can't. Not now. If you just went home, you'd die. 

Well, you wouldn't so much die, as you wouldn't be you anymore. There would only be a Benry. No Barney, and no combination.

Just Benry. Trapped here, in a simulation.

There was never even a home programmed into the game. The topside dorms don't have an interior.

"Let's go back home?" Gordon sounds absolutely baffled, and you try not to dwell on that as you walk away from him, surrounding the coolant pools.

"Yeah."

Bubby agrees, but Gordon insists that this is what you're all trying to do. That this is the way to do it.

You disagree. "No, we're going further in hell."

It's only a hell for you.

It's only a hell for the lost.

~~

You found a grate. You have also forgotten the name for it.

So you mention it the only way you know how. "There's so much holes in here."

Gordon blinks. "It's called a grate!"

You simply shrug. "Waffle floor!"

~~

Just around the corner from the waffle floor, Gordon stops you. "Benry," he begins, "I don't think you've ever made an insightful comment in your life. Everything you say is just inane bullshit."

You ball your hands, leaping to your first defense when it comes to scathing comments; false blame. "You deleted Wikipedia's servers!"

"No! Bubby did that! And you did that too!"

A look of shock crosses your face, and Gordon notices, correcting his statement as he remembers. "Actually no, you actually- I'm sorry. You didn't."

Gordon apologized.

A voice insides you gently reminds you that you don't have to accept apologies.

"I refuse to talk to you," is all you say as you climb up the ladder.

Gordon follows behind. "Please, can you do that for the rest of the day?"

"You're not my friend anymore!" you say, and you're not sure if it's true. "We used to be **best** friends, I don't know what happened."

"I don't think we were ever best friends, man!" Gordon sounds like he's about to laugh at you, and it stings. "I don't think I've ever liked you. I've had ups and downs with every other member in this group-"

He liked you once. He did.

And you know Gordon is talking to Benry, or what he thinks is Benry, but that still hurts you anyway. Because you're Benry, but you're also Barney, but you're also You. You're everything and those words still mean something to you.

"We were best friends!"

The shoulders of the HEV suit drop. "When?"

So desperate, so eager for a real answer, if only so he can be proven wrong. You almost think Gordon _wants_ to be your friend.

You're baffled, mind blanking. "What?"

And you run away.

~~

Gordon calls you back. You return, interested in what he has to say.

He punches you off the ladder and rallies the group onwards.

~~

Like a bad smell, but not nearly as bad as the one circling Gordon right now, you return, announcing your reappearance with a loud and confident "AND WE'RE BACK!"

Because you are back, all of you, and you're all determined to make it to the end of this. You've had enough of the ups and downs, of statements pointed at you and not.

You just want to go to sleep in a nice warm bed.

(You won't. You have things to do.)

~~

Gordon tries to get the attention of a nearby guard. He's been designated as the security officer for this sector, and is in charge of opening the doors here.

The man is barely greeted when you shoot him in the face, knocking him across the room.

Surprised, although he shouldn't be, Gordon rounds the corner to the window, looking at you and Tommy. "Who even did that? I don't even know. Hey, do it to me!"

Have patience, you think. You'll get shot in the face soon enough.

You bite your lip and force those comments away. You'd been doing so well too.

Gordon begins to lament his circumstances when you approach the window, wanting to brighten his mood (and yours). "What do you wanna order please? Sir?"

You can see the cogs turning as Gordon approaches the window. "You wanna order something sir?"

He opens his mouth to complain when Coomer pipes up. "Gordon please keep the line moving. We'd all like to order."

It looks like it's not working. "We have three big mac and four freesh fries for you! Nnnot anymore though."

All Gordon can manage is a strangled wheeze.

You'll take it.

~~

A guard starts unloading into you. You're too tired to imagine the pain, so you don't. Instead you just bleed everywhere. It's more amusing to you.

Weird, to be so jaded about dying. You don't like it.

The guard stops after a moment and shoots Gordon, who ends their short, artificial life.

You barely get a moment to breathe before Gordon's unloading bullets into you. "What the hell..." you mumble in defeat.

"Why is it like this? Why is my life like this?" Gordon whines. 

Your Gordon never complained so much. But then again, he never went through a Resonance Cascade, or if he did, he definitely forget to tell you.

"-Why are you here?"

"Tell me about it!" you answer, exasperated. "God, I wanna go play my Playstation 3 bro..."

And go home.

Wherever that might be.

~~

There's a room full of teleportation orbs. You don't know a single thing about teleporting.

So you buckle in and let Gordon handle it. He can get you all to the top when he's ready.

And if he doesn't do it, the code sure will.

~~

You gently tease Gordon as he works out the teleporters, joining the Science Team as a peanut gallery of sorts.

It's a nice moment together before everything comes to a head.

...You're scared.

You just won't admit it.

~~

You make it into the final room, along with the others. There's a guard there, so you try to ask for his Playstation Network ID. When you knock off work, it'll be nice to unwind and-

No. There's no games after work. There is no after work. Never was and never will be.

Your memories are mixing, and it's causing you problems.

~~

Something in the air changes. The portal turns on early, before anyone is ready.

The world flashes blue. Not by your doing, but by the script, which has realized that it got ahead of itself.

Gordon looks around in confusion. He asks Bubby, then you.

You just look at him, head slightly tilted. "The timelines are... crossing."

You refuse to elaborate.

~~

Since time went backwards, you ask again to be added on PSN.

He does not answer you.

Gordon thinks you're scaring the guard.

You just know he never could answer you in the first place.

~~

Now you are all breaching the point of no return, but before you do, someone makes an appearance.

The man from before, in the suit. He appears, and you choose this time not to be bound by his commands.

You are above the console now.

You are absolute.

You can't help but feel smug as you approach, asking G-Man for his credentials. He may be more powerful than you are and could be, but right now he is being civil, and you are taking advantage of this.

He begins to stutter, and you begin to press, enjoying the feeling of power that comes with it. Your flag is fluttering and you're leaning into it, warming up before the big show.

You must admit, it's kinda nice to throw your weight around. You were always a nice guard.

"Do you have Playstation Plus uh, voucher?"   
Now you're just being a pest. You continue to ramble on, just to revel in the feeling, and maybe to get a free month of PSN. It is rather expensive after all, even though you've never had a PSN account, or paid for any of it.

A thought crosses your mind as G-Man tries to ignore you and talk to Gordon.

"Where are we?" you ask aloud, smiling ever so slightly at the amusement Gordon is finding in this whole scenario.

G-Man scrambles away before you can get an answer, a PSN voucher, or his PSN tag.

"Yo, what the fuck. I just wanna play games with people, man."

You'll play a game with them all soon enough.

~~

Gordon explains to the Science Team about your meeting with G-Man.

"Why does he see everything I see that you don't see?!"

You know the answer. You're controlled by a higher power.

Just as Gordon is.

Just as the Science Team isn't.

And that's the only reason why.

~~

"I think I left my- my Playstation Plus code, uh, back there somewhere." You motion vaguely behind you.

Gordon tilts his head. "Back where? In the locker room?"

"We should go back and get it," you add, taking a moment to process what he just said. "We could- I get a free month, we could play MAG. Lots of... people online."

Your attempts do not work. "The only room I want to go into is that one," Gordon says, gesturing to the room with the teleporter. "-and put a stop to all of this, and say **Goodnight!** to Black Meas. For the final time."

Bubby and Coomer misinterpret the figure of speech as a command, and you piggyback off it. "Time to sleep! Oh yeah!"

Gordon cries out, but you're already trying to guide everyone back to the other room. "Bed is over here! Back here!"

"It's not even been the three hours we can usually be awake for!" comes the protest, but you have a response.

"We can't go in that room. There's no bed there."

And you can't sleep in a room without a bed, despite the fact you've done that several times before.

Gordon turns and motions for everyone to follow.

"Let's go to the alien homeworld, and kill a space god! or something."

Your heart clenches in your chest.   
Your flag flies high.

There's no turning back.   
You're in this together.

And you're fighting the Science Team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are.  
> On the precipice.  
> I hope you're buckled in as we prepare to dive.
> 
> The Next Chapter Is The Last.  
> I've enjoyed this ride.
> 
> I hope you will too.


	37. Now You Know The Truth

The portal opening brings aliens in, and you work with the others to defend it long enough to open, bridging the gap to Xen.

"You're wearing the suit," you hear Bubby say as you jog over, ready to join them in going through the portal.

Going to the end.

"You go!" Bubby shoves Gordon forward, and he runs, leaping into the beam.

There's a flash of light and he's gone.

Bubby goes next, then Tommy.

The portal is on the brink of closing, but Coomer hesitates.

He takes your hands, holding them gently. "Thank you," he says. "For doing this for us."

You blink. "Huh? What?"

"You did well, Barney," he says, pulling back and turning, darting into the portal. The light flashes again, and you can tell you have little time left.

Your feet move on their own.  
You run towards the portal, and you feel strong. Confident. Doctor Coomer knows the truth and he supports you. Maybe there's a way out. Maybe he can help you.

You don't have to kill Gordon.

They can win, and you can be free.

Your name is Barnrey, and-

~~

Benry stands in the void.

Barney stands in the void.

You stand in the void.

You are between them, like a bridge of sorts. Benry to your right, Barney to your left.

You realize now what is happening, but it's not for you to say.

So you wait.

Benry puts his hands in his pockets, kicking at an imaginary rock. "We made it."

Barney nods. "We did. So, what now?"

"Crossing into that portal, it uh, finalized the flag. Made me the big bad."

"We talked about that, remember?" Barney takes a step forward.

You hold a hand out to stop him.

After a moment, Benry speaks again. "And the Big Bad? That's entirely different to the Security Guard. That is, the Security Guard who is a friend of Gordon Freeman."

"What? What does that even mean, Ben?" Barney's voice is confused, and you know that best, but you cannot say anything. This cannot be said by you, who sees all sides. This has to be told by the people themselves.

"We used to be the same person, Barney." Benry's voice shakes ever so slightly, but then it stabilizes. "We were the Security Guard who was Gordon's friend. That was us."

It slowly ticks by in Barney's brain, but Benry beats him to the punch. "But now I'm a Big Bad. And you're not. You're still Gordon Freeman's friend."

"What..." Barney staggers forward and you approach him, keeping him held back. All it does it make him fight against you. "What the hell, Benry! You said we were gonna do it together! We were gonna face Gordon together, and then we'd-"

"S'just the same. We're saying goodbye, just like we would. 'Cept you don't gotta beat up your boyfriend."

Barney stares, and Benry takes a step backwards. "See you later, Barney. Was real good hangin' with you. Maybe I'll see you again one day. Probably not though." He grins, and you try not to look at him.

But Barney, he looks. He sees that smile and how fake it is. "You don't wanna fight him!" he shouts. "We- We coulda done it together! Been- Been helpin' each other out! Share the burden!"

"Nah, you'd cramp my style," Benry lies, and you know it's a lie because you're still him. "Besides, you've got places to be. Can't have you dyin' in the Grand Finale. You gotta go to the sequel."

Barney pushes and you push back.

You know they both have to go.

And yet. And Yet.

The fight drains out of Barney. His knees shake and he collapses to the floor. You feel his uncertainty, his fear. The world is going to be something else.

It is going to end preemptively.

He is scared, and you are too, so you hold him close.

The weight of it all hits Benry. He staggers and stumbles towards you both. You feel his regret, his unease. He is going to face a painful fate.

It results in someone's death.

He is scared, and you are too, so you hold him close.

You can't stay in the void forever. None of you can.

So you cling tightly to your components.

And they cling tightly to you.

And all of your mourn for this moment.

"I'm sorry," Benry tells you.

"Thank you," Barney tells you.

You don't say anything at all.

You just drown in the static ocean.

~~

Your name is Barney Calhoun. You're a young twenty-something college dropout who took a gig as a Security Guard to pay the bills. You hadn't really read the paperwork, and it was only when you were moved onto an on-site dorm that you realized Black Mesa might be more than you were expecting.

Now, you're sitting in the back seat of a four-wheel drive as it drives along a bumpy dirt road. There are two scientists in the front, and another in the back with you, frantically trying to work out where they should go.

You look up into the rear view mirror and see tears on your cheeks.

You feel like you've lost something precious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone.  
> I hope you enjoyed being here and reading this.
> 
> On the off chance you like what I do, I'm working on some other hlvr stuff. It's pretty alright.


End file.
